The A Little Bit Trilogy Bundle: A Little Bit Submissive; A Little Bit Rough; A Little Bit Controlling - A BDSM Erotica Romance

by Bebe Wilde

  “I actually would,” I said and smiled again. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Never too much trouble for you, Red,” he said and smiled at me, then gave me a quick peck on the cheek before bolting from the bed. “I mean, Teagan.”

  “But it’s late,” I said. “Nothing is open.”

  “There’s always a grocery store open somewhere.”

  He was right about that. I smiled at him.

  “I will be back soon. Just make yourself at home.”

  I sat up on the bed and watched him dress quickly and rush out the door. A moment later, I heard the front door open and close. As soon as he was gone, I lay back and sighed with happiness, feeling all the tension in my body drain away.

  I thought about us having sex. Uh, wow. Double wow. What the fuck was that? Just the thought of it was enough to make me tingle, and want more. I couldn’t wait until he came back. Maybe we could get another session in. I lay there and snuggled in his big bed, loving his sheets and the softness of his duvet. All monochromatic colors, but very rich and comfortable. I could have lay there for the rest of the night. I might have even fallen asleep, but as soon as my eyes closed, I heard the doorbell ring.

  What the hell? I sat up and listened. It rang again. It might be an agent who left their purse or phone or something. I sighed with irritation and looked around. My dress was in the kitchen but I found my bra and panties next to the bed, so I hurriedly slipped them on and raced to the kitchen. With no other choice, I slipped the dress back on and walked to the front door barefoot, smoothing my hair down as I walked. I looked through the peephole and saw that Kier was on the other side of the door. What the hell?

  The doorbell blasted again, annoyingly enough. I gritted my teeth and opened the door. Kier stared at me for a quick second, then jerked back.

  “Hey, baby,” he said and smiled.

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “I uh… Where did you get that dress?”

  “It’s a new look I’m trying,” I said and sighed. “What do you want? And how did you find me?”

  “Hailey told me.”

  I scoffed. “Right.”

  “Well, she did,” he said, nodding, giving me a good once over. “You look like you just got fucked.”

  “Go to hell,” I hissed but blushed in spite of myself.

  He looked over my shoulder. “Did you… Where is…”

  “I’m alone, Kier,” I aid. “I’m just closing the house up. I had my broker’s open tonight.”

  “I know,” he said. “Hailey told me.”

  “Kier,” I said, wanting to throttle him. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. What the fuck do you want?”

  “Anyway,” he said. “I told Hailey I was interested in this house and she knows how desperate you are to make a sale.”

  “I am not desperate,” I told him.

  “You are. You know it and I know it. The real estate market is shit right now, Teagan. Let’s not play this game.”

  I wanted to growl at him.

  “I know you’re in a pinch,” he said and threw his hands up, looking around me into the house. “Can I come in or not?”

  I shrugged and moved aside to let him in. He walked in, looking the place over, nodding to himself. He was wowed, I could tell. But then again, everyone was wowed by this house. They just didn’t want to fork over any money for it.

  “It’s cool,” he said. “I love that couch. It looks like a love fest couch, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t what the fuck that means,” I said, getting annoyed. “So you want to live here?”

  “Not really,” he said. “I was thinking that I could buy it and then you can put it back on the market. You could get another commission on it. Who knows? If the market ever comes back, I might even make a little money on it.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I want you back, of course,” he said.

  That figured. Up to his old tricks again, wasn’t he? He was always saying we should get back together and I was always telling him no. And, of course, as soon as I found someone else, there he was, screwing with my head. But had I found someone else? How would Roman figure into my life? Would he just be a one-time thing? If so, it had been so hot, I could live with that. However, it would be hard not to want more.

  “Seriously,” he said. “I want you back.”

  I sighed. “Come on!”

  “I’m offering you a chance to get back on your feet,” he said. “To get straightened out.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I don’t need your money.”

  “Please,” he said. “I know that’s not true.”

  “And how do you know this?” I asked getting really irritated with him.

  “You never wear any of that jewelry I got you when we were married,” he said. “And the last time I was at your house, I checked for myself to see if you still had it. You sold it all. Right?”

  I nodded. “It was mine. I hated it. It reminded me of our failed marriage.”

  He sighed with annoyance. “Yeah, right. You’re almost bankrupt, Teagan. You know it and I know it.”

  I lit up with his words. It was true. The truth of this realization made me want to vomit. I was almost bankrupt. It was such a hard thing to admit to myself, but I was. But why did he have to throw it in my face? Why did he have to do this? “I fucking hate you,” I said and meant it.

  “Don’t hate me,” he said. “Hate the market. Hate the fact that you refused alimony.”

  “I don’t want your fucking money!” I hissed.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “You’re an independent woman, yeah, okay. We’ve been through this. But let me help you. I hate the thought of you having to move back in with your mother.”

  Then he laughed. I wanted to smack him. I should have. “Get out of here,” I said.

  “Fine,” he said. “But I can do this for you. I know that I put you through hell. Let me make it up to you. That’s what people who love each other do.”

  “You don’t love me,” I said. “You love the thought of having me.”

  “That’s absurd,” he said. “I’ve loved you for a long damn time and I don’t see this changing. Let me help you. I’ll buy this place and then you can put it back on the market and sell it again, like I said. You’ll make another commission and you will be back on your feet.”

  Easy peasy, right? Fuck! Yes, it was tempting and this house was going to be a bastard to sell. But I couldn’t. If I did, he’d have that over me. And then he’d want to move back in with me and then… No. I wasn’t going there. Besides, Roman… Fine, I’d admit it. I wanted to see where this thing with Roman might go. I knew it wouldn’t go far, but the man excited me. Yes, it was all about the sex. Okay, fine. But Kier didn’t have to know that. And he wouldn’t. Ever.

  He grinned at me. I glowered back. He shook his head, chuckling to himself, then turned back to me. “I’d like to bend you over that couch right about now.”

  “Is that all you think about?”

  Deadpanned, he replied, “No.” Then a pause. “But when I’m with you, yes.”

  I groaned. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “Fine, fine,” he said and turned to leave. “But I want to do this for you. Let me do it. At least consider it?”

  I considered it then said, “No.”

  “Teagan,” he said. “Don’t pass up a good thing.”

  I was about to reply when Roman came back in carrying bags of groceries, his cell phone to his ear, talking in rapid-fire French. He stopped when he spotted Kier, then said something else into the phone, then, “Goodbye,” and hung up. “Oh, hello,” he said and in a very friendly manner. “You’re Kier O’Mark, aren’t you? I’ve seen your work.” He adjusted the bags to one hand and held out the other for Kier to shake.

  Kier nodded but ignored his hand, slightly glowering at him.

  “He just stopped by to look at the house,” I said quic
kly.

  “Oh, that’s fine,” he said. “But it is a little late and we were about to eat. Would you like to join us?”

  Please, no! I turned to stare at Kier who was shooting daggers with his eyes into Roman. What the hell was his problem?

  When Kier didn’t respond, Roman withdrew his hand and said, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Kier hissed. “Are you fucking my wife?”

  “Kier!” I exclaimed. “Shut up! He’s my client!”

  “Your client?” he asked, turning on me. “Really? Is that what they call it now?” He turned back to Roman. “Are you fucking my wife?”

  “Pardon?” Roman asked, turning to me, his eyes wide with disbelief.

  “We are not married,” I said quickly, holding up my hands. “Anymore. No. We are not married!”

  Kier stepped to him. “You’re fucking my wife, you motherfucker! Who do you think you are with your fancy fucking house and your fancy fucking bags?” He slammed his hand down on the grocery bags in Roman’s hand and they fell to the floor. A bottle of French red wine rolled away on the concrete floor.

  Roman stood tall and waited.

  I got between them, pushing Kier back. “Kier, stop it!”

  “He needs to tell me what he’s been doing with you,” Kier said and pushed me away so hard that I almost fell. “Tell me, motherfucker. Are you fucking my wife?”

  “That is none of your business,” Roman said like a true gentleman.

  “Kier, I want you to leave,” I said calmly. “Now, just go.”

  He shook his head. “Let the motherfucker answer my question first.” He turned to me. “Or you can answer it. Are you fucking this dick?”

  “He’s not a dick,” I said.

  His mouth dropped. “How could you?”

  Men! So typical! They bastard had cheated on me for years and as soon I fucked someone else, he was upset. How dare he? I wanted to hit him, so badly.

  I didn’t have a chance. Without a second thought, Kier punched Roman square on the mouth. And, without hesitation on his part, Roman socked Kier on the jaw. Then it was on. They went at it like they were in a boxing ring, like they had a personal vendetta against one another. They went at it like two men who hated each other go at it. It was spectacular in a very primal way. I watched them for a minute and, knowing I couldn’t break it up, called 9-1-1. They were still at it when the cops arrived a few minutes later, destroying the living room, giving each other black eyes, throwing each other down on the floor, then fighting again.

  The two cops managed to break them up but not before actually having to get in the middle of the brawl. One of them even yelled, “I can’t believe I’m fighting Kier O’Mark! Fucking Hollywood !” Then they cuffed Roman and then Kier, who started yelling at Roman, “I’ll fucking kill you over this, motherfucker!”

  “Not if I get to you first!” Roman hissed back.

  “Shut up!” one of the cops yelled. “Now!”

  Roman tried to break free of him but he managed, barely, to hold him back.

  “What is this over?” the cop asked them.

  Roman and Kier both looked over at me. Ugh. I wanted the floor to swallow me up. It didn’t. I instead looked down at my feet, at my just-painted red toenails.

  “Oh, I got it,” he said and shook his head. “Let’s haul them in.”

  “He attacked me first,” Roman said. “He’s the one at fault.”

  “Is this true?” the cop asked me.

  I nodded. It was true. So, I said, “Yes, he threw the first punch. He attacked him.”

  “Teagan!” Kier shouted, aghast.

  “It’s true, Kier!” I shouted back. “You came in here and started the fight!”

  “But… But… Fuck! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “I’m just telling the truth!”

  “Do you want to press charges?” the cop asked Roman.

  “No,” he said. “Can you let me go now?”

  “If you can if you promise that this is the end of it and that you’ll behave yourself.”

  He nodded. “I can do that. You can let him go now, too, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure?” he asked.

  Roman nodded. “Yes, please. Merci.”

  He uncuffed him, then turned to Kier. “What about you? You gonna start another fight?”

  Kier shrugged then nodded. “I’m cool.”

  “Good,” he said and uncuffed him. “I’ll escort you out. Let’s go, buddy.”

  Kier jerked his arm away from the cop and glared at Roman, who glared back. Then, without provocation, he ran at him and tried to get another punch in. Roman ducked and grabbed him by the middle then they fell to the floor once again, fighting like cats and dogs. Or two men who loathed each other.

  It seemed to take forever for the cops to pull them apart again and they even called in for backup. More cops came, about four or five, and then hauled Roman and Kier out of the house and into the cars. Then they took them, I presumed, “downtown.” That’s what they always say on those cop shows, so that’s what I assumed they did.

  I watched from the front door as the cars crept down the long, winding dark driveway and out of sight. I didn’t know what to do. I went inside and tried to tidy up the living room, almost erupting in rage myself at the state it was in. Expensive vases were broken. There was a hole in the leather couch… The wreckage went on and on. I’d have to hire someone to come in here and fix this and I’d have to find a way to pay for it. Fucking Kier!

  I picked up the groceries on the floor, smiling at Roman’s choices, wondering what that meal would have tasted like. But I’d never know. I put what wasn’t damaged up and threw the rest out. Then I turned a few lights off and gathered my bag and my shoes.

  Then there was nothing I could do. I went to the front door, locking it on my way out. Then I sat down on the front step and waited. I didn’t know how long it would take, but I was willing to put in the time. In an hour or so, a big, black SUV I didn’t recognize came crawling up the drive. Roman was in the front passenger seat and another man, who I presumed was a friend of his, drove. The SUV stopped; Roman got out then the SUV backed up, turned around then crept down the drive softly.

  Roman turned to the house, then saw me sitting there waiting on him. “Oh, no, you shouldn’t be here,” he said. “You’re fired.”

  I nodded. “I kinda thought that,” I said.

  He stared at me. “He must really love you,” he said. “But I can’t have this.”

  I burst into tears. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m sorry.”

  He nodded with the contempt only the French can get away with. “Just leave, Teagan.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t believe it was over, even before it really began.

  “Wait,” he said and held out his hand.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, confused.

  “The key to the house,” he said. “I believe you called it an agent key.”

  “Oh, of course,” I said and fished it out of my bag, then dropped it in his hand.

  And without another word, he opened the front door and went inside, closing it behind him, shutting it in my face, thus shutting me out of his life. I stared at that door for a while. Then I realized it wasn’t just the house, or the commission from selling it, that I wanted from him. I wanted more. And if you don’t ask, you can never hope to receive, if only you have the courage to try.

  I screwed up my nerve and knocked on the door. I knocked four times, waiting, hoping, praying he’d open it. And then he did.

  End Book 2

  Continued in Book 3 - A Little Bit Controlling

  A Little Bit Controlling

  The A Little Bit Trilogy

  Book 3

  A Little Bit Controlling

  The A Little Bit Trilogy

  Book 3

  Bebe Wilde

  Abernathy and Monroe

  A Little Bit Controlling. Copyright © 2013 b
y Bebe Wilde.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For more information, email abernathyandmonroe@artrummedia.com

  Published by Abernathy and Monroe.

  eBook ISBN–13: 978-1-938107-34-4

  eBook ISBN–10: 1-938107-34-9

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  For Him.

  Continued from Book 2 - A Little Bit Rough

  Contents—A Little Bit Controlling

  Master Table of Contents

  The Price of Love

  Before You Leave

  Welcome Home

  Someone Had a Good Time

  The Final Showing

  Je t’aime

  The Price of Love

  It was all about control. But I was the one who gave him the handcuffs.

  He stared at them for a moment then casually tossed them on the coffee table. He looked up at me with a mixture of curiosity and expectation. What now?

  I felt slightly embarrassed, especially because of the handcuffs, a leather and lace pair I’d picked up at a sex shop, on a lark, a gift even, for him. We’d never used handcuffs before. Would we try now? We’d done this before, many times. He’d set it all in motion. It was him that had sparked this in me, whatever this was and it was right now, at this moment, indefinable.

  “I trust you,” I said.

  He refrained from rolling his eyes and said, “Trust is good, Teagan. However, control is better. It’s power.”

  Control is better. Control was better. It was power. Whoever was in control had the power. Roman had always been in control and it was starting to irritate me just a little. Me giving him the handcuffs was my way of telling him what to do. He didn’t like that. He called the shots; it was that simple.