Bind

by Sierra Cartwright

  He pulled a pillow close to them then moved her head onto it. After sitting next to her, he reached for her shoulders.

  She dug her heels into the mattress to help him.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her that was unnecessary. He settled for, “I’ve got you.”

  Supporting her weight with his upper body, he reached around her to release the restraints. When she was free, he rubbed her wrists. “How was that?”

  “The cuffs or the sex?”

  “Either. Both.”

  “If you were angling for a compliment… You can stay naked around me all the time, Mr. Donovan.”

  He grinned.

  “And you’re really, really good in bed.” She brought her arms around in front of her, moving slowly as she stretched her shoulders.

  “My question was really about the handcuffs,” he clarified.

  “I may be starting to understand what you were talking about the other day…the freedom that comes from being bound.”

  “Go on.”

  “You’re the one who told me it would happen,” she protested.

  “But I want to hear about it from your perspective.”

  “Since I couldn’t touch you, it was as if…I don’t know. I had no choice other than to let go. It allows me to get out of my mind more. I wasn’t thinking much, just enjoying all the sensations.” She paused for a second as if to sort through her thoughts. “I’m not sure that makes sense. Touching you, holding you would be a whole different experience. I guess being bound gives me permission to enjoy it more. I liked it. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want my hands all over you.”

  “I promise you’ll have plenty of opportunity for that.” And he had a few ideas along those lines. “Let me draw you a bath. May help with those kinks.”

  As he entered the bathroom, she said, “Damn. Nice ass.”

  He turned back to face her and said, “I feel the same about yours. Especially when it’s red.”

  After he’d disposed of the condom, he turned the faucet on full blast.

  A few minutes later, she joined him in the bathroom. Her hair was mussed, and she yawned. He couldn’t wait to pull her against him as they slept.

  She grabbed a clip and secured her hair. Then, instead of waiting for the tub to finish filling, she climbed in. She sank down and sighed. “If you can’t find me, try looking here,” she said. “I may never get out.”

  Lara closed her eyes, and he gazed at her. She still wore the necklace, and he liked the way it nestled against her skin.

  Who was he fooling? He liked everything about her, from the way she tipped back her head, to her sun-bronzed shoulders, to the way her breasts looked with their dusky, peaked nipples.

  He let her soak in peace while he showered.

  When he’d finished, she was soaping her body.

  He kept an eye on her while he dried off. A few stubborn tendrils of hair had escaped to curl against her cheekbones. A few others lay against her nape. He realized he liked having her in his space and watching her savor the bath.

  He walked over, picked up a sponge and soaked it in the water. He squeezed it out just inches over her body, rinsing the soap from her skin.

  “Be very careful,” she warned him. “I’m this close”—she held her thumb and index finger about an inch apart—“this close to getting spoiled.”

  She sat up, and he ran the sponge over her shoulders, down her back. “Getting closer,” she told him. “You know, if the whole deal with you owning a moving company doesn’t work out, you can apply for a position as my personal assistant.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He put the sponge back on the shelf.

  “Thank you.” Her voice had a soft husk.

  “Always,” he replied. Since the water had started to chill, he offered her a towel.

  Lara stepped out and he wrapped it around her.

  He went into the closet to put on a pair of shorts then went back into the bedroom and waited for her.

  A few minutes later, wearing a pastel pink shirt that barely covered her butt, she joined him.

  “I’ve told you I would prefer you come to bed naked.”

  “I…” Color drained from her face and she reached for the hem. “I thought it was just for that one night.”

  “Leave it on.” He pulled back the covers on her side of the bed. “I’m not sure I can endure the temptation.” The truth was, he’d desire her no matter what.

  He turned off the light then pulled her close, spooning her. Her bare legs pressed against him. “That thing you’re wearing. Is it called a no-sleep shirt?”

  “In case you were wondering, I don’t have any panties on.”

  “Keep up that kind of talk and I’ll have to put you in a chastity belt for your own protection.”

  She wriggled provocatively.

  Fuck. It was going to be a hell of a long night and an interesting future.

  Chapter Nine

  In gentle waves, awareness crept in, and Lara spent a few moments in that blissful, unnamed space between awake and asleep.

  She stretched, then curled back into herself when she noticed some small aches.

  That realization brought her back to consciousness and she opened her eyes. She was in Connor’s bed, but she exhaled when she saw that he was gone. His pillow had a small indentation, and the covers were stamped with his spicy, masculine scent. She listened carefully, but there was no indication he was anywhere in the suite.

  She forced herself up onto her elbows. The effort caused her a twinge of pain in her abdominal muscles, and she suddenly recalled the way he’d forced her to hold her legs up while he’d licked her pussy.

  Her heart pounded and memories rushed in. The session with the single tail, shopping together, conversation, his sensual spanking and, God, the sex…

  Even though she tried to put a stop to them, the visions persisted, as if they were on a slideshow. She recalled the hot way he’d fucked her, holding nothing back. Just as quickly, though, he was capable of tenderness. He’d drawn her a bath, even rinsed her off before pulling her against him in bed. She’d never met a more complex, confounding man.

  It was impossible to fathom she was actually thinking about getting married to him. Though the union wouldn’t last, she was recognizing that it might be impossible for her to keep her emotions under control. Getting entangled with a man who had his feelings walled off was nothing short of insane.

  Unable to shake the feeling that she’d set something in motion that she had no idea how to stop, she tossed back the covers and climbed out of bed, determined to find coffee before being friendly to the day.

  She heard music from down the hall, indicating he was probably working out.

  Despite her own best intentions, she was drawn toward the exercise space.

  For a moment, he was unaware of her, and she stood in the doorway, watching him. Seventies rock music pulsed through the space and he pulled the handle on the rowing machine in keeping with the tempo. He stared at the television, even though the sound was muted.

  He didn’t have a shirt on, and she saw a sheen of perspiration on his upper body. It was his shorts, though, that arrested her attention. They were compression skins, and she’d never known a man to wear them unless they were layered under something else. The black material hugged his legs and his genitals. Her heart raced so fast that she wondered if watching him work out would count toward her daily cardio goal.

  Suddenly he looked over, and she was a bit embarrassed to be caught staring.

  “Morning,” he said, his smooth pulls never faltering. “I’m almost done here.”

  “No hurry,” she said. “The music drew me.”

  “Sorry if I woke you.”

  “You didn’t.” Or maybe he had, because she’d been aware of his absence.

  “I made a pot of coffee for you.”

  “Okay, that’s final. I will marry you,” she said.

  He grinned.

  Right now, she wasn’
t sure which was more important, watching him or grabbing a cup of coffee.

  He focused his steel-gray eyes on her. Silent promise radiated from them, simmering and pulsing even across the distance.

  Her stomach plunging in anticipation, she escaped to the kitchen.

  He’d thoughtfully set out a couple of mugs, and she filled one from the thermal carafe. Instead of carrying it to the table or the living room, she simply leaned against the counter while she took the first restorative sips. There’d be time to move after the caffeine hit her bloodstream.

  A couple of minutes later, he joined her. He had a towel draped over his shoulders, and he was still wearing those lust-inducing shorts.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “Never better,” she admitted. It had been a long time since she’d slept the night through. Much as she was loath to admit it, his presence had helped her. Well, that and the exhaustion that had clobbered her after they’d had sex. It wasn’t just the physical exertion, she knew. It was the way he pushed her, emotionally, mentally, demanding trust, taking her places that she’d never been.

  “Is it okay if I go near the coffeepot?” he asked. “I promise you a refill.”

  “Am I that scary?”

  “Your refill comes before I take any,” he said by way of answer.

  She looked into her cup. “It’s almost empty.”

  “There’s enough for both of us,” he promised.

  He grabbed the carafe, and Lara moved away. As ridiculous as it seemed, there was something about starting the day together that made her feel more vulnerable.

  True to his word, he topped off her mug before pouring his own.

  He leaned against the stove, across from her. They were close, but not touching, and she was grateful for the distance.

  “How are you doing this morning?”

  “A little tender. Aware that I may need to hire a personal trainer to get me in shape to have sex with you.”

  “Yeah. You’ll want to be prepared for the acrobatics.”

  “Acrobatics?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Drink up. You’d have figured out that was a joke if you were awake.”

  “It’s not me,” she protested. “It’s you. You don’t joke.”

  “Rarely,” he conceded.

  But it had happened, she remembered. A few times, in fact.

  “We’re all meeting at my mother’s house around eleven. I thought you might want to go and grab a bagel and a cappuccino to hold you until then. There’s a small place a few blocks away. It’s overcast, so it’s a nice day to walk.”

  “Sounds perfect.” She liked the idea of getting out of the house, having something ordinary to do after everything they’d been through. And it would keep her mind occupied, allowing her less time to stress out about meeting his family. “Will Erin be there?”

  “She’ll be dying to see you, I imagine.”

  “So she knows? About us, I mean.”

  “We had a family conference call yesterday morning. I’m surprised she hasn’t called you.”

  “So am I.” Soon, everyone would know. “My mom sent me a text last night. She can see us this afternoon if that works for you.”

  “Name the time.”

  “How about two? Will that give us enough time?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll let her know.”

  “Good. Now breakfast. Can you be ready to go in fifteen minutes?”

  “If I can shower and put on my makeup after we get back.”

  “Deal.”

  She excused herself and returned to the bedroom to get dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt emblazoned with the Houston city skyline. She was tying her athletic shoes when she heard him enter the bathroom then, almost immediately afterward, the sound of the shower. He was already done by the time she went to pull her hair into a ponytail. “I think you take the fastest showers known to mankind.”

  “It’d be different if you were in there with me.”

  Her pussy tingled at the thought.

  Five minutes later, they were walking side-by-side down the street. This was the kind of relationship she’d been looking for, something easy, where two people were working toward the same goals, passion…

  She looked over at him. Sunglasses shaded his eyes. A dark golf shirt showed off his biceps and his lean torso. His pants conformed to his muscular thighs. He hadn’t taken the time to shave, and the shadow on his jaw appealed to her. Connor Donovan was a mouth-wateringly handsome man.

  This weekend, she’d had a glimpse of what a life together might be like, waking up in his bed, having coffee together, watching him work out, sharing breakfast, spending time together. If this were real, it would be so good.

  As he held open the door to the coffee shop, she shook off her melancholy. This whole thing had been her idea, and she had to deal with the consequences.

  He selected a healthy power bagel, loaded with nuts, fruits and seeds. She went straight for the maple scone iced with maple frosting.

  “The biscotti should have clued me in to your sweet tooth,” he said.

  “Not only that, but I don’t share.” She broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth, savoring the bite.

  The barista called out their order and he went to claim it before returning to the table with the drinks.

  “I think your definition of submission is different from what I expected,” she told him after she’d taken a sip.

  “How so?”

  “I guess I thought you would have expected me to go get the drinks. Maybe to have brewed the coffee this morning.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure. It seems like you’re always doing little things for me.”

  “First of all, it makes sense that the first person out of bed would make the coffee.”

  She shook her head. “It makes more sense to set it up the night before, put it on a timer and have it waiting when you get out of bed.”

  “I forgot I was dealing with an expert. We should do that.” He took a drink from his smoothie. “Back to your question. Some relationships include that, certainly, just like many vanilla relationships do. But we’re both busy executives. Working together will make our lives together easier. To me, the most important part of the D/s dynamic is the respect. When something matters to me, I want you to very carefully consider what I say. And sexually…” He looked at her.

  She felt the full force of his personality.

  “I think you know what I expect.”

  “To be in charge.”

  “That has enormous responsibilities with it. I take them seriously. Your safety and well-being are paramount.”

  She’d already seen the proof of that.

  “But if you ever feel the overwhelming urge to get up before me, after I work out, I have coffee and an omelet, three eggs, fresh veggies, including onions and green peppers. Red ones are nice for color. Heat them in olive oil before adding the eggs.”

  “I keep telling you that you have the wrong woman.”

  He took the final bite of his bagel. “Couldn’t hurt to ask.”

  Her phone rang and she checked the caller identification. “Erin,” she said.

  “Surprised she waited this long.”

  “Uhm…”

  “Go ahead and take it. I’m sure I have email, and I’ve got newspapers to read.” He pulled out his own phone.

  She left the coffee shop and moved to a shady area beneath a tree, away from potential eavesdroppers.

  “What the hell?”

  “Good morning to you too, Erin.”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re marrying my brother and I have to find out from him? And I’ve been waiting twenty-four hours to hear from you. Isn’t that cruel and unusual punishment? What about chicks before dicks? Hmm? I’m not waiting another minute. Spill it. Now. Every detail.”

  She stood and began to pace. “Nothing much to tell. There’s been no decision yet, and I’m not sure we’ll be able to come to terms.”

  “What, did
you two sign a blood oath to stick to the same story?”

  Lara laughed. “It’s the truth.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll pry. Who proposed?”

  “I did.”

  “What? Did you at least buy him dinner first before frying his male mind?”

  She shook her head. No matter what was happening, Erin kept her outrageous attitude. Lara was reminded of their times in college where Erin would dramatically enter their dorm room, throw herself on the bed, hug a pillow and regale her with stories. “Nothing like that. After I met with you—”

  “So you weren’t playing it cool on Wednesday night? It was my idea all along?”

  “I went back to the office after I had dinner with you. I ran into Connor. He was getting on the elevator as I was exiting.”

  “So you knew he visited your dad?”

  Her breath froze. “You knew?”

  “No! Are you kidding me? Me? Keep a secret? Come on, Lara.”

  That much was true.

  “I didn’t find out he had any interest in BHI until Thursday when we had our monthly meeting. I’ve missed some updates, so I wasn’t in the loop. Your dad kicked Connor out, right? My big brother wouldn’t have liked that much.”

  “I started thinking about what you’d said.”

  “And…? Give me the details. Where are the negotiations stalled?”

  Lara remembered what he’d said about loyalty and protecting their relationship. Keeping it from Erin was a huge test. She settled for telling parts of the truth. “He wants me to live with him.”

  “He’s a neat freak, but other than that, he doesn’t do anything weird like leave toenail clippings in the bathtub.”

  Erin had had a boyfriend in college who’d done that. After she’d seen it, she’d been unable to shower. After putting her clothes back on at two a.m., she’d called Lara to pick her up. Since then, they’d judged all men by that standard.

  “So why can’t you live with him?”

  “The marriage will have an end date.”

  There was so much silence that Lara thought the call had dropped.

  “So you don’t mean for this to be a long-term thing?”

  “No. I never did. He’s okay with that. But I thought we’d live separately.”