Bondage Wedding (Desired Discipline)

by Carson, Tori

  He caught her looking at his hand like it was a snake or something. What the hell is that about?

  Finally, she accepted his help. He guided her behind him as he led the way to her apartment. Normally when he escorted a client, he kept both hands free, but he couldn’t make his hand let go of Amanda. He needed the contact to make sure she was with him. He knew from the many times he’d followed her home and waited until she was safely inside that she lived on the second floor. At the top of the stairway, he reluctantly let go of her arm and transferred the keys to his right hand so he could quickly unlock her door.

  James took a glance inside then allowed her to enter. He kept his hand on her arm. “Stay right here.” He spun the deadbolt then, with his hand on the grip of the pistol he kept secured at the small of his back, he looked around her place. What little there was of it…

  Besides the front door, there were only three others, the coat closet, the utility closet and the bathroom. No way could he stay in this apartment alone with her. There was barely room to turn around. If he had a prayer of being a gentleman, he needed more space. Somewhere he could go and not breathe in her perfume every time he drew a breath. The only place he could escape her here was the balcony and that wasn’t going to work. A glass arcadia door that looked onto her ‘bedroom’ wasn’t much of a reprieve. It didn’t matter that it was also her living room, kitchen and dining room all rolled into a pint-size space.

  “Where is the picture?” he grumbled. He hadn’t planned on taking anyone home with him. Honestly, he didn’t know if she’d be any safer there. He’d spent so many nights in his bed fantasizing about Amanda that to actually see her lying there would be a hell of its own.

  Her right shoulder was touching the coat closet and her left was leaning on the front door. She stepped to the side so she had room to swing the closet door open, but hit the back wall of the pantry. Carefully, she walked around the bar stool tucked near the island that she was using as a dining room table. She had to lean in to pull the door open.

  How the hell did she live here? The walls were closing in on him.

  Once the door was open, she had room to step in front of the closet. James stood in the ‘kitchen’ area and watched her. He’d never seen a closet so jam-packed in his life. It couldn’t be more than three feet wide and she was using it for all of her clothes, shoes, books and miscellaneous storage.

  Amanda bent down and started rummaging through the bookcase she had squeezed into the small space.

  “I see you like to read,” James commented, hoping to ease the tension between them.

  “I love books and these are my favorites.” She turned around and gave him a carefree smile. “Nowadays I download most of the books I buy, but each of these mean something to me. Even though space is limited, I just can’t get rid of them.”

  He couldn’t help smiling back at her. Knowing he’d found a subject she was willing to talk about, he planned to use that to his advantage.

  “Here it is.” She pulled out a large hardbound book.

  “What’s that about?” He’d expected her to have sappy romances or maybe mystery stories, not non-fiction.

  “It’s about fashion trends throughout history and the current events that influenced them.” She gave him a tentative smile signaling to him she was about to share something important. “I figured if the women this book was written about could survive herringbone corsets, they were strong enough to keep me safe from a stalker.” She turned a beautiful shade of pink. “I guess that sounds pretty screwy, but it makes sense to me.”

  James had no idea what to say so he gave what he hoped was a polite chuckle. In truth, her logic made no sense to him, but he found her adorable and was afraid to say anything that might ruin their burgeoning friendship.

  He watched as she opened the back cover and pulled out the plastic protector sheet with the evidence. Carefully, she slid the book back then stood and handed the photo to him.

  “It’s all yours. I don’t ever want it back.”

  “Great idea—putting it in plastic.” He took a moment to look at the picture. His radar was shrieking at him. She’d described the photo as a torture scene. Except for the ‘Die Slowly, Bitch’ scrawled across the bottom, there wasn’t anything to make this picture threatening. It was pretty clear to him the photo had been taken from the camera monitoring the hot-wax play area. Hadn’t she mentioned acid? He turned the picture over to make sure he wasn’t missing something. Nope, it was blank except for the logo for the photo paper. Interesting…

  “Okay, I’ll take care of it. Pack whatever you’ll be needing for the next few days and let’s get out of here.” He needed some air and a few minutes to think about the photos.

  “What do you mean?” She was standing with her arms crossed at the wrists.

  It was a unique pose and he wasn’t sure what her body language was telling him. “You can’t stay here. Since the stalker knows your car, it’s safe to assume he knows where you live. It would be easy enough to follow you home. You can stay with me until we sort this out.”

  She shook her head. “No way. I can’t stay with you.” She took a step backward and hit the closet door. “I have school tomorrow and work. I…”

  “Pack what you need for school and work, grab a few days’ worth of clothing and you’ll be all set.” He wasn’t compromising on this. She was definitely going to his place. When she stood frozen he prodded her by asking, “Do you have a suitcase or a gym bag?”

  She shook her head no.

  “You’ve done it now. I told you what would happen the next time you disobeyed me.”

  Her eyes widened as he approached her. With her back already pressed against the door, there wasn’t anywhere for her to go. Looming over her, he cupped his palm around the back of her neck and pulled her closer to him.

  At six foot three inches, he was a good ten inches taller than Amanda. As he bent down she whispered, “You can’t.”

  With his lips only a breath away from her, he asked, “Why?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Now you’re just teasing me.” Ever so lightly, he brushed his lips over hers. Her body moved into his as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed their mouths tighter together. When Amanda’s delicate hand touched his chest, he paused waiting to see if she would push him away. As her fingers curled around his shirt, he leaned in and deepened the kiss.

  Amanda tasted like strawberries and he indulged himself. A slow, languid exploration of her lips set his heart pounding. As he tentatively ran his tongue between them, she opened for him. Their tongues danced in complete synchronicity. Damn, the girl can kiss! Afraid that if he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t be able to later, he pulled away.

  When he tried to step back he bumped into the pantry wall. This fucking apartment was too small. If they stayed here much longer, he was going to throw her down on the couch or bed or whatever the hell it was and fuck her silly. “Now, do as you’re told and pack your things,” he growled at her.

  With her hand covering her lips, she blinked several times then stepped to the side away from him. She went down on her knees in front of the bed thing and pulled out a suitcase she’d just told him she didn’t have. He made a mental note about that as well. And were those tears in her eyes? Fuck!

  James leaned against the door and watched her gather a laptop, textbooks, a Kindle and her school backpack. When she turned toward him, she looked so fucking innocent he felt like a lecher for kissing her after she’d told him he couldn’t. But damn it, he’d given her every opportunity to push him away and she hadn’t. What the hell game was she playing?

  “I need in the closet.”

  He moved back into the ‘kitchen’, giving her the room she needed to reopen the closet and get out some clothes. In fascination, he watched as she opened up storage containers she’d stuffed into the bookshelf and dug out panties and a couple of bras. This woman had shit crammed into every nook and cranny of this apartment. He had the mad desi
re to open the pantry just to see what she’d hidden in there. Obviously there wasn’t an inch of wasted space.

  “Okay, I think I have everything.”

  “I’m not far from here. If you forgot something we can pop back by.”

  On his way to the door, he slipped the strap of her backpack over his shoulder.

  “Oh, crap—I forgot my makeup.” She brushed past him and went into the kitchen area.

  Honestly, he wasn’t terribly surprised when she opened up the refrigerator and pulled out a small makeup case.

  “I try not to turn the air conditioning on much, so this stuff does better in the fridge.”

  “Makes perfect sense.” At least it seemed to—to her. She was obviously as poor as a church mouse. He wondered what André was paying her. James had a tidy sum of money saved. Maybe he could figure out a way to help her without coming off like a jerk trying to buy his way into her pants.

  James checked his phone. Before they had left the club he had texted a friend and fellow bodyguard asking him to leave a car for him in the guest parking lot of Amanda’s apartment complex. His phone had buzzed a few minutes ago, giving him the location of the car and where he could find the keys. Since he’d driven another client of AJ’s to the club that evening, he’d been without wheels.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ve got everything. Do you really think this is necessary? I doubt he even knows where I live.”

  “I’m not willing to take a chance like that.”

  She looked into his eyes for a few moments. Whatever she was looking for she must have found because she leaned down and picked up her suitcase. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Chapter Two

  “This is your house?” Holy crap. This couldn’t be his. He couldn’t be handsome, smart, funny and live in the house of her dreams. It was so not fair.

  “Yep. I bought it right after I got out of the service. I’ve been remodeling it a little at a time. Do you like mid-century moderns?”

  “You’re remodeling it? Why?” If he was ruining the aesthetics, she would hurt him.

  His smile spoke volumes. He read her way too easily. She needed to learn to mask her emotions around James otherwise he’d discover her every secret. And that was completely unacceptable.

  “Previous owners had cluttered up the design. I’m trying to return it to the original plan. Well, with one exception—I can’t handle an eight-foot ceiling so I vaulted the common areas. Eventually, I’ll do that in the rest of the house.”

  “You vaulted the ceiling?” Dang it, she knew her voice carried every ounce of awe she was feeling. “Do you have the wall-size windows in the back?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, come on. I’ll show you.”

  Amanda made it to the entryway before her jaw dropped. It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. The vaulted ceiling was paneled in a light wood to match the vintage furniture, but what she couldn’t tear her eyes away from was the slatted slate fireplace. She left her suitcase by the door and walked over to it. Bending down, she peered at the firebox. “It’s open on the other side?”

  “Actually it’s three-sided. It was one of the reasons I bought the house. You can enjoy it from the living room, patio and master bedroom.” James picked up her suitcase and joined her by the hearth. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”

  Amanda loved his house and couldn’t find fault with a single change he’d made. Their tastes meshed perfectly. It didn’t make any sense, but she was starting to trust him. She must have asked him a hundred questions and they’d agreed on everything. If it weren’t for his sexual preferences, he would be the perfect man. Damn!

  He put her suitcase in the master bedroom. There was no way she was crawling in bed with him—even if it was a vintage, teak, king-size piece of heaven. With a feeling of regret, she slung the strap of her suitcase over her shoulder. “It’s been a long couple of days, do you mind if I just crash in the spare bedroom?”

  “Put your things down, Amanda, you can have this bedroom. I’ve got work to do in my office. You’ll be more comfortable in here. That way I don’t have to worry about being quiet or having the lights on. What time do we need to leave to have you at class on time?”

  “I think seven would work. If you don’t mind dropping me off, I can probably get a ride to work.” She should have brought her car. What had she been thinking? Oh yeah, he’d kissed her until her brain had gone offline. Now she was stuck bumming rides. That would teach her.

  “You misunderstand—I will take you to school and stay there with you, either in the classroom or right outside. We have no way of knowing what this guy has planned. Until we figure this out, you’re stuck with me.”

  “James, I’m in class until two. You’ll be bored out of your mind. I’ll be fine, really. Just drop me off.”

  “What time do you want the alarm set?”

  Amanda stared at him. She was sure he had heard her and yet he made no further comments. She had no idea how to work with that. Didn’t he realize there were two normal reactions to a disagreement—either you gave in or you got into an argument? What the hell game was he playing? And what were the rules? This was bull crap.

  “You did hear me, right? That gun going off mere inches from your head didn’t affect your hearing that much, did it?” She knew he would recognize the frustration in her voice and she decided she didn’t care. He needed to fight fair.

  “I heard you perfectly. I also explained why we would be handling it my way. Now, what time do you need the alarm set?”

  Amanda tried staring him down. Naturally, it didn’t work. His expressions remained calm and self-assured.

  “Okay, fine.” She dropped her bag back onto the ground. “It’s your wasted day. I need to be up by six.”

  She watched James go to the bedside table and set the alarm. “I have some extra T-shirts in there, if you need one to sleep in.” He pointed to the second drawer of his dresser. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll get the sheets changed. If you’re hungry, help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

  “Actually, I need to print a paper for school.” She always printed her stuff at work, but once she’d found the picture, she’d forgotten about everything else.

  “Use the one in my office. Just pull the USB cable from the PC and hook it to your laptop. You might have to download drivers, but I think they should talk to each other. I’ll be there in a minute.” James already had the sheets off the bed and was efficiently and quickly replacing them with a fresh set from the bathroom pantry.

  Amanda carried her backpack into his office and began booting up her laptop. She felt more comfortable in his home than she did in her apartment. How weird was that? She marveled at how clean and frankly perfect his place was. She ran a hand over his built-in desk. It was handsome, cool and efficient. It also described James, except when she looked into his eyes. No, they were filled with heat and they did things to her girlie parts that she didn’t want to consider too much.

  “Did you get it printed?” James appeared in the doorway looking way too sexy for her comfort.

  “It’s throwing error codes. I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong.” She was too tired to think properly. She’d been awake for going on forty-eight hours.

  He took the computer from her hands. “Go to bed. I’ll take care of this.” He slid the laptop onto his desk.

  “Are you sure?” She wasn’t techno-savvy. Mostly she just bullied her way through.

  “Absolutely. Write down the name of the file you want printed. And while you’re at it, write down the name of your ex, his address, job and anything you can remember.”

  Her heart stopped then began pounding. What the hell was she going to do? She’d make up the whole story. No doubt he was going to investigate any person she named.

  “James, he was a college kid in Louisiana. I have no idea where he is now. I got my heart broken because I believed he loved me and was going to marry me. He didn’t do anything wrong. Not
falling in love with me isn’t a crime.”

  “He’s an idiot if he didn’t fall for you. Now, what’s his name?”

  He couldn’t stand there and say things like that, not inside his perfect home, with his sexy, strong arms bulging from the sleeves of his shirt. She imagined what it would feel like to have them wrapped around her. She shook her head, trying to displace the unwanted thoughts. “David McGraw.”

  “How old is he?”

  “He’s my age, twenty-three.” She’d gone to high school with David. He was a sweet guy. If James investigated him, he wouldn’t find anything then he could turn his focus elsewhere.

  “Thank you, now go to bed. I lit a fire, hoping it would help you relax.”

  Amanda had a lump in her throat. Why couldn’t she find a man who treated her this well, who didn’t derive joy from beating women? She met his gaze and tried to think of something to say. Absolutely nothing came to mind, so she nodded and went to leave the room.

  James stepped in front of her. “What did I say about answering me verbally?”

  When she opened her mouth to complain, his lips descended upon hers. He palmed the back of her neck while his other arm wrapped around her waist and drew her against his hard frame.

  Amanda had never found satisfaction from sex. The only orgasms she’d ever had were courtesy of her vibrator. Yet kissing James made her legs weak. An intense need built within her. It was foreign and uncomfortable. She didn’t want to feel pleasure from a bad boy.

  As he pulled away, without realizing it she leaned into him, not wanting to break their contact. His kisses were the most intimate she’d ever felt and she wasn’t exactly a virgin. While she didn’t want her body to respond to James, it seemed she had little control in the matter.

  James put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Get out of here, Amanda, while you still can.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but she got the impression he was as affected by their kiss as she was. She nodded and remembered to say, “Okay. Goodnight.”