Unrestrained

by Hill, Joey W.

  She couldn’t watch this. She couldn’t. She took a swallow of her soda, the carbonation burning, and put it down with a five. “Thanks, Jimmy. I have to go.”

  “You just got here.”

  “Sorry, my schedule was already tight. I didn’t realize . . . I just have to go.” She turned away from his puzzled expression and fled the play area. As soon as she was out of Jimmy’s sight, she increased her pace, practically trotting down the hallway toward the hostess station. She couldn’t bear to hear that first strike fall, Sally’s ecstatic cry of pain.

  It was never going to be like it was with Roy. Falling in love so young, growing up together, becoming everything to one another. Ellen was right. So many people never had that dream even once; what right did she have to expect it twice? This was karma slapping her in the face for her greed. She was a submissive, yes. Dale had been right about that. But she wasn’t like a Sally or Willow, enjoying play with different Masters as part of their club membership, then returning home to their lives the rest of the week. She wanted one man, one Master, and wanted to be his sub. Committed and faithful to one another, a closed partnership. Intimate in a way that was pure fantasy, because it couldn’t happen overnight.

  She should have made that clear, and maybe she wouldn’t be hurting like this now, but then she hadn’t really known what she wanted until Dale opened it up inside her, had she?

  She was nearly running, and of course that was never a wise idea in high heels. The thin point wobbled and then her ankle turned, making her stumble. She caught the wall, cursing softly at the pain that shot up her leg. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Though it didn’t feel like a bad sprain, one more step told her she wasn’t going to be able to walk a step further in the sexy shoes. She yanked them off, resigned to the fact her stockings would be torn up by the parking asphalt, and proceeded at a slower pace.

  Fortunately, some other members were coming in when she reached the hostess station, so she nodded a quick good-bye to Susan. A new person she didn’t know was working the door, so that, too, was a perfunctory farewell. She moved toward her car, fumbling for her keys. When she looked up, she started back two paces. Dale was leaning against her car door.

  He had to have come out the side exit, circled around. And he would have stopped practically midsession, leaving Sally hanging there. What in the world . . .

  His attention coursed over her, touched briefly on her shoes, but then he made a more thorough perusal of the dress and something else entered his gaze. Heat and storm clouds.

  He straightened, coming toward her. “You shouldn’t come out in the parking lot alone,” he said shortly. “Why are you limping?” When he reached for her elbow, she jerked away.

  “I can take care of myself. You didn’t have to leave what you were doing to provide me an escort. Who’s watching over Sally?”

  “Gerald. He was assisting with the demonstration. Since he taught me the technique, he’s more than capable of taking it over. He’s been talking to me about sharing the load, because he’s getting requests for so many demos lately. Not just here, but at different clubs and a couple cons. There’s good money in it.”

  “I’m sure there is. I’m late for an engagement.”

  “Athena, hold up. What the hell is this?” He caught her by both elbows, refused to let her go when she struggled against him. “Settle down. Why are you dressed like this? Were you planning to . . .”

  She stopped, raising a gaze to him. “What?”

  “Were you here to be a Mistress? Or a sub?”

  “Why would that matter to you?”

  “Because the outfit says you intended to let a man touch you in some way. In a lot of ways.” His blue-green eyes flashed dangerously. “That matters a hell of a lot to me.”

  “Really? You’re in there, tying up a naked twentysomething, and you’re being possessive?” She yanked out of his grip, glared at him. “What about aftercare? Were you going to cuddle her, stroke her hair? Hold her in your lap when she cried, like you held me?”

  The hurt welled up so strong, she felt sick with it. “Get away from me. This was all a mistake. Please just leave me alone.”

  He planted himself between her and her car, taking her purse in a smooth grab that suggested a lucrative career in petty theft if he were so inclined. “I’ll give it back to you after you listen to me.”

  “No. I don’t want to listen. And don’t you dare give me that look. I can be as irrational as I want to be. It’s no concern of yours.”

  “Gerald wasn’t just taking over because I went after you,” he said. “He took over because that’s how we set it up. I explain and demonstrate the rope tying, pick out the punishment, and then he takes over from there. Including aftercare. I’m interested in doing this as a way to improve my skills, to teach others the right way to do it, and to earn some extra cash.” His gaze slid over her again. “I’m doing another one next Saturday. Why don’t you come as my sub, and I’ll do the whole thing on you, beginning to end? He’s been pushing me to do solos.”

  “Jimmy said you’d been here more than once over the past couple weeks, not just yesterday.”

  “So you were checking up on me?”

  “No.” She set her jaw. “He called me. He brought up the fact he’d talked to you and that he’d seen you here a couple of times. I didn’t ask.”

  “Why not, Athena? Did you think you didn’t have the right?”

  “We didn’t agree to be exclusive.” Drawing her dignity around her, burying her hurt with effort, she told herself she would be an adult. “I know I’m reacting irrationally. That’s my problem, not yours. I apologize. If you want to continue to have sessions with other submissives, I just can’t do that. I didn’t realize it about myself until tonight. I should be able to keep it separate in my head, see you the way Sally or Willow do, but obviously I’m still too emotionally vulnerable. Please move.”

  He nodded, slid to the left. But when she stepped closer to the car, he caught her wrist, shifting their positions so she was up against the side of the vehicle, and he was standing in front of her, his broad shoulders shielding her from any eyes but his.

  “Why did you wear this dress tonight?”

  She shook her head, and he put his hand on the side of her face, tilting her chin up with his thumb. “Answer your Master, Athena.”

  Her gaze snapped up to him, met that steady, no-nonsense stare. Why was he doing this to her? Didn’t he understand? Her body trembled at the words, yearning toward them, a shameful betrayal of her heart.

  He wasn’t waiting for her answer. Or rather, he was occupying himself while he was. His other hand was on her bare back, sliding down over her right buttock to take a firm hold. That storm-cloud look increased. “Christ, you’re not even wearing panties under this thing.”

  “No, I’m not. I wore it . . .”

  Oh, for the love of all things, she was not going there. She was not going to humiliate herself. She shoved against him. “Let me go. Please . . . just let me go.”

  “Athena.” The tone of his voice changed in that instant, from that of hard Master to puzzled lover, a far more devastating tactic. When his hands gentled, closing over her upper arms, she went still, staring miserably at his chest. “Athena, look at me.”

  She shook her head, and he sighed, putting his mouth briefly on the crown of her head, then resting his chin there, so her face was in the curve of his throat. She closed her eyes, feeling the timbre of his voice through her cheek. “I agreed to do the sessions with Gerald a month ago. The original plan was for me to do them beginning to end, on my own. But earlier this week, I told him I was seeing someone, and it was getting serious. I asked him to do the handoff after the punishment choice because I wanted to talk to that special someone about this, see if I could get her to agree to be my submissive for future demos. But I wasn’t going to leave him in a lurch this week, since I’d ag
reed to help him. If you want, you can go in and ask him, verify I’m telling the truth.”

  She said nothing, though her cheeks were warming now. He slid his hands back down to her waist, thumbs sliding over her hip bones. “You wore this dress to piss me off, didn’t you? Make me think that if I wasn’t going to limit myself to you, that was a two-way street.”

  “I’m refusing to say anything.”

  “Fifth amendment and all that?” There was amusement in his voice, but it wasn’t patronizing. When she lifted her head, dared a quick look at his face, there was a rueful expression there, even as his features remained tense, a little angry. “I’m sorry, Athena. I should have told you about this ahead of time. I was trying not to be presumptuous. I wasn’t sure you were ready for exclusivity. But then I saw you in this dress, and I realized, whether you were ready or not, I sure as hell was. When I saw you, I couldn’t finish up with Sally quick enough. If you’d made a move toward another guy . . .”

  Things were feeling a little better now, but she’d gone so far down the other road, it was hard to call herself back from that tangle of turbulent emotions. She did put a hand on his chest, tentative though it was.

  “Hey.” He slid his fingers into her hair, tugged it so she was looking up at him. “Can we avoid the risk of homicide toward each other and innocent bystanders and confirm we want this to be an exclusive thing, for however long it lasts?”

  “I told Lynn to have the bed in my room changed out with one in the guest rooms.”

  She wasn’t sure that was an answer, but it was what came out of her mouth. He nodded. “Which bed?”

  “The one in the yellow bedroom.”

  “The four-poster. Good choice.” Possibilities kindled in his gaze. That heat found its way into her lower belly, tendrils teasing other sensitive parts of her. “You still haven’t said it, Athena. I want to hear the words. You’re mine and only mine.”

  She stared up at him. “I’m yours and only yours,” she said softly.

  Even so, she pushed out of his grip, establishing a little space between them. She rubbed her arms where he’d touched her, realizing she wanted him to keep touching her, but that she also needed him not to do so. Her feelings were too large, things too much.

  “You need to retreat?” he asked shrewdly.

  She didn’t want to nod, but her head was already moving that way. “It feels different, being in there, watching you . . . knowing that I’m different now. Not what they all think I am. I need to go home and think it through, get a little space away from this.”

  He glanced back at the club, then at her. “You’re building this place up too much in your own head.”

  “Probably,” she admitted. “It just stands for a lot of things, I guess. Who I was, who I’m becoming.”

  “Their expectations of you.”

  Sometimes his ability to nail the point could be as irritating as it was helpful. When she didn’t say anything, he reached out, squeezed her hand. “I’ll let you off the hook tonight. But that’s not going to last forever.”

  “I meant what I said,” she said quietly. About being yours. “But I have to think about this some. I don’t act as impulsively as I did tonight. I need to slow things down. All right?”

  Since she had no idea what she really meant, she couldn’t expect him to do so, but he fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked the car door. Opening it, he leaned in and put the purse on the passenger side, then straightened, gesturing to her to take the driver’s seat. “All right,” he agreed.

  After a brief pause, a weighted silence between them, she stepped inside the shelter of the door. He took advantage of his height to reach over it. He slid his fingers into her hair, drew her up to him for a kiss. She resisted, but not enough. The mouth he put on hers was full of barely restrained tension and need. Those emotions linked with similar feelings in her own chest. When he lifted his head, she had her fingers curled over his wrist, and she didn’t want to go, as much as she knew she needed to do so.

  “I’ll be as close as a phone call, girl,” he said. “You reach out when you’re ready. But wait too long, and I’ll come looking for you. Say it again.”

  She knew what he was demanding, because the mere command made those emotions leap in her chest like a deer bounding across a cloud-covered meadow at night. Rushing and fast, mysterious and dark. “I’m yours,” she whispered.

  He nodded, his fingers slipping down to caress her throat. “That tether’s there, all the time. You’ll feel me tugging on it.”

  She gripped his wrist harder, then let go, feeling the loss of his touch as he let her get into the car. He closed the door and stepped back, remaining in place while she turned the engine over. When she was driving out of the parking lot, he was still watching her, the shadows cast by the parking lot lights etching out those relentless planes of his rugged face. His words were burned into her brain; his touch felt branded on her skin.

  She thought how crazy she was for leaving him standing there. Then she decided not to think at all.

  —

  That stasis only lasted until three a.m., when she woke, her body aching and her mind in a whirl. She thought about everything they’d done since she first saw him at Club Release. The lunch at her house, their first session there, the time at the junkyard, in her office . . . the club last night.

  Even though she smarted a little from that, remembering his kiss and expressions, the way he’d touched her, helped soothe some of those raw wounds. When she drifted back into a fitful sleep, she held his words to her, let them steady her.

  His. More than that, he’d made it clear he considered himself hers exclusively.

  Stepping out of the shower in the morning, she studied her backside. The bruises from the ruler beating were fading. She wanted to cup her breasts, stroke between her legs, aroused simply from looking at them, but he’d said that was forbidden. Why had she gone home last night? Why had she gone home alone?

  Because she fell to pieces so easily with him, that was why. She’d never been a woman who fell to pieces at all.

  It reminded her of a conversation she’d overheard at the reception after Roy’s service. Amy, Roy’s niece, had been comforting Evelyn, Roy’s sister. Evie had kindly mentioned that they should check on Athena.

  She’s fine, Mom, Amy had assured her. You know how she is. Aunt Athena can handle anything. I think if the whole world stopped tomorrow, the first thing she’d do is make a list on how to get it running again.

  Yes. That was probably true. But Dale kept turning her toward her own needs and desires, and that was a volatile, far deeper well than she’d realized. It was good to take a breather, not let the bucket descend further until she was ready to explore more of that darkness. She wondered what Dale would say to that.

  You won’t be exploring it alone, girl. Will you?

  God, she missed him. But she’d drawn her line in the sand and she was going to make herself observe the boundary, even if only for today. She decided she’d work in her garden.

  She kept her phone with her, though. She received a couple of emails on her private account from Release, reminding her of the monthly munch and another rope-tying demonstration. His name wasn’t featured on that one, making her think he’d told Gerald he needed to pull back entirely until . . .

  Until what? Until she said it was okay? Until she agreed to do it with him? Once again, she recoiled from the idea of appearing within those walls as a submissive. She deleted the emails, though she felt a twist of guilt, thinking of Jimmy and some of the others there who’d supported her so staunchly during Roy’s illness. She’d address that another week.

  As she worked in her garden, she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, thinking of Dale kissing her . . . of Roy touching her hair, tugging on it. She recalled a day she’d been tending her roses and Roy brought her a wildflower he’d seen on
the side of the road. He’d pulled it from the dirt, roots and all, putting it in a plastic beer cup he had left over from the day’s golf outing. Kneeling next to her, he planted it in the ground among her roses.

  “Those fancy, well-tended plants need to remember what it is to grow wild, to see something beautiful spring up somewhere unexpected.” He’d touched her face at that, making her smile.

  She’d tended his offering as carefully as her roses, so now, two years later, that little yellow wildflower was a bushy edging around their perimeter.

  Her eyes were wet, she realized, pulling off her gloves to swipe at them. Dale was a new and special part of her life, but there were days she missed the man who’d been in her life for over twenty years so very much. What would he think of Dale? She thought he’d like him, tremendously. They’d probably share a beer, play pool together.

  But that was the crux of all of it, wasn’t it? Not just what she’d been or what she was becoming, but what she’d been all along, and how she would deal with that part of her coming to life, competing with her past, challenging her future.

  Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at it, hoping it wasn’t Ellen. The week after the board meeting was usually a quiet one, allowing her to handle most things from home. When she saw it was Dale, the leap in her chest was a good feeling, simple and pure. “Hi. I’m glad you called.”

  “Hi.” He paused. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She sniffled. “Just working in the garden. Allergies.”