Stuck in Between (Bound by Your Love)
Page 1
Stuck
in
Between
ALSO BY BLAKELY BENNETT
My Body Trilogy
My Body-His
My Body-His (Marcello)
My Body-Mine
Co-Authored
The Demarcation of Jack
Stuck
in
Between
Blakely Bennett
Stuck in Between
Copyright © 2014 by Blakely Bennett
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover design by Clarissa Yeo
Logo design by Olivia E. Bennett
Edited by Read Owl Publishing
ISBN: 978-0-61598-037-9 (Trade Paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-63173-316-1 (eBook)
My favorite part of being an author is the friends I make along the way. There is a small crew who make my day so often, lifting me up and urging me on. This book is dedicated to Serena K., Tami C., Sara S., and Ann P.—you gals rock!
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This is the first of many stand alone books in the Bound by Your Love series, which centers on the romantic lives of one group of friends.
As you will see, each chapter is headed with a song title. The melody, title, and/or lyrics inspired me to choose each song for each of its corresponding chapters. If you’re into music, like I am, I hope you enjoy the accompaniment.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Although writing can be a solitary process, publishing a novel is not. My first note of appreciation goes to my husband who is the best soundboard a writer can have. I’m so happy to be sharing this journey with you.
My beta/test readers never fail me. Big thanks to Serena K., Brenda L., Stephanie H., and Sara S., your feedback is invaluable.
A special shout-out to my “street team” babes for reminding me, often, why I write. Thanks for all your help and support.
I’m so happy to have found my editor, April Duffy, and cover artist, Clarissa Yeo. I’m thrilled with your work.
Warmest hugs to my daughter who puts up with me having my nose buried in my computer too often. Thanks for cheering me on.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER ONE
Help Me
by Joni Mitchell
Damn, not again, I thought as I opened my eyes and scanned my surroundings. In one fell swoop, I had abandoned all my firmly held resolutions. I should have known better than to mix alcohol and my ex-boyfriend Bond.
My eyes swung to the left, and skimmed the rack to see if he had added any new devices for disciplining his wayward lovers. There, on the wall, hung a variety of whips, cuffs, and paddles. I had long ago vowed never to allow him to take such liberties with my body. At least I had upheld that promise to myself.
As I sat up, I felt my head swim from the wine, the pot, and Bond. He was like a ticking time bomb, blowing my life to pieces each time I gave in to his gravitational pull. In my defense, he had that effect on all women, not just me. Unfortunately, I was the silly woman lying naked in his bed under the black-framed Octopussy movie poster he had hung above the headboard.
Bond leaned through the doorway wearing fitted white shorts and a short-sleeved shirt with a white collar and blue stripes. His long, brown hair appeared wet from the shower. Seeing him dressed like that reminded me he came from money. To me, he looked funny dressed like a man going to play tennis at the country club instead of the tattooed biker he liked to portray. Neither was really him in my opinion.
“Chop, chop,” he said.
“‘Chop, chop’? Have you turned into my mother all of a sudden?” I said, slowly pivoting my body to the side of the bed to stand.
“I have company arriving soon.”
The way he said company, it was clear it would be of the female persuasion.
“It’s not even 10 a.m.,” I almost whined but modulated my voice in time.
“They own a sailboat so we’re setting out early. Seriously, I need you to vacate.”
“Well, good morning and fuck you too.” I wanted to stick my tongue out, but instead behaved like an adult.
He moved toward me with that look on his face.
I held my palm out, to halt his progress. “Don’t,” I said.
“Look Jacqs, let’s talk later, okay? I don’t have to be at work until nine tonight. We can deal with this at Red’s before I head in.”
“Deal with what exactly?” I turned my back to him and threw on my dress from the previous night. My torn panties were nowhere to be found.
“Well, you know, last night.”
Last night, I sighed.
It was actually 3:30 a.m. when I had heard the first text chime, and I didn’t have to look to see who it might be. I ignored the sound, rolled over and started drifting back to sleep. Bond, however, proved relentless and texted me seven more times. After the first five texts, I started to worry. I had considered turning off the sound on my cell phone overnight since knowing Bond, but I feared my sister wouldn’t be able to reach me in an emergency. She frequently called at off hours, but found texting too much of a bother so, at least, I knew I wouldn’t be dealing with her latest drama.
I finally gave in, snatched my phone away from its charging cord, and headed into the bathroom. I scrolled through my newly received texts:
Bond: Jacqs, are you up?
Bond: Come on, sleepyhead, I need you!
Bond: My father threatened to cut off my money again.
Bond: He and I really had it out this time. I don’t think he plans to speak to me again.
Bond: I just need you to come by and bring me a bottle of wine. That will calm me down so I can sleep. Please!
Bond: Now I know you’re just being stubborn. Are you lying in bed trying to get back to sleep?
Bond: It’s not going to work. I need you, and you know you are my only real friend. Pretty please?
Bond: Baby, I promise to behave, okay? I’m asking you over as my friend only.
“Yeah, right,” I said to the bathroom door. I gave in and typed:
Me: What kind?
Bond: Merlot and thank you, thank you, thank you, you’re a godsend.
Me: You owe me.
Bond and I had been friends for over eight years, and he had always been there for me. I knew a lot about his family dynamic and what it cost him on an ongoing basis. I would always respond to him, even though I fought it.
I stood in front of my closet, looking for something half-decent to wear. After putting on a light sundress, I grabbed my purple hoodie. Winter weather in Hollywood, Florida, could be unpredictable. After freshening up in the bathroom, I stared in the mirror. You’d better behave yourself tonight, I sa
id to my body and then rolled my eyes at myself.
As I pulled my messy, long, wavy brown hair back into a ponytail, I thought of putting on some makeup but nixed the idea. My eyes, green around my pupil and blue filling the rest of the iris, were red-rimmed from lack of sleep, and makeup couldn’t fix that.
On my way to Bond’s apartment, the only movement on the street was a stray cat and a section of a newspaper blowing in the wind. It was warm enough outside to let me crack the driver’s side window. I drew in a deep breath of ocean air coming from a few blocks away. The surrounding silence made the volume on the stereo seem louder, so I turned it down. After pulling into Bond’s parking spot, I bumbled up to his place toting the bottle of merlot.
“Here you go,” I said, after unlocking the door with my own key and handing him the wine that I kept for such occasions. “Do you ever plan to get your own car?”
“No,” he said, taking the bottle into the kitchen.
“Are you ready yet to tell me why?” I asked as I followed him.
“No,” he repeated, uncorking the bottle.
Even with his body angled away from me, I felt the ungodly pull on my being. It had been months since I’d sex and far longer since I had received a really amazing orgasm at the hands of another. Simply, I was crazy horny, and hanging out with a past lover, specifically the one with the most magnificent cock I ever had the pleasure of experiencing, did not help matters.
My nipples tightened as Bond glanced over at me. He seemed very tall at five feet ten, but then again, at merely five feet two, almost everyone dwarfed me. He was a decent-looking man, with masculine arms and legs, who, against convention, wore his glossy, brown hair long. His face would qualify as above average, I suppose, but he wouldn’t be considered exceptionally attractive. His light brown eyes, however, seemed to mesmerize us simple mortals. I had never given much thought to pheromones before I met him, but he had them in abundance. His unique scent melted the defenses of women in his presence, which, trust me, can be quite intimidating when you are the one dating him.
His low-slung, black jeans, black T-shirt and black boots made him look as dangerous as he truly was.
“Do you want a glass?” he asked.
“Sure, why not,” I replied. I leaned against the counter, took the goblet from his hand, and asked, “What happened this time?”
“Honestly, the usual argument. They want me at their next event so I can play the black sheep and make them feel superior. I told my father I can’t get time off, which is partly true.”
“Is there some big event at the CroBar club? Do you have to be at work that night?”
“Yeah, but there are plenty of newbies who could fill in for me.”
“How much longer does your father have control over your inheritance?”
“At forty, I’ll get the money my grandparents left for me. Five very long years. It wouldn’t be such a big deal, but you know me, I love to party and those monthly trust payments help.”
I knew his emceeing job kept him busy, but it certainly didn’t keep him out of trouble. He was like a spider sitting in the middle of his web, ready to capture his latest prey.
“Help pay for dates, right?” I hadn’t forgotten how he liked to wine and dine. “You can’t mean you spend it on living here,” I said, glancing around the apartment.
His place was above the club where he worked, and it could get loud in the little abode, so I didn’t imagine he paid much rent. He did have expensive tastes though. The kitchen was completely outfitted, although I’d never known him to cook. The black leather couch with plush matching recliners sat atop an oriental rug. I knew he spent some of his funds on those ridiculous toys hanging on the wall in his bedroom. His king-sized bed filled most of the space, and he used the wall of closets for his clothes and a collection of leather jackets and boots.
“Is your family thing another one of those company functions?” I asked.
“My family is a company function.”
“The one you dragged me to was dreadful. For Democrats, they surely looked, acted, and talked like their Republican brethren. I’m pretty sure I was the only woman or man there not wearing a business suit.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said and shrugged his shoulders.
“What does Lily say about it?”
Bond took a big gulp of wine. “Lily wants me to come because she hasn’t seen me in ages, and she says she doesn’t have any fun without me. They’re making my brother Donny a partner, so it’s going to be black tie.”
“So what are you planning to do?”
“Talk you into going with me, of course,” he said with a cheeky smile.
“Oh, hell no. You have years of experience dealing with hundreds of people looking down on you and asking awkward questions. I, for one, don’t have the stomach for it. Plus, do you really want to encourage Lily’s idea that we’re the perfect match?”
“Aren’t we?”
I decided not to dignify his question with a response. His need for multiple women, domination, and his general fucked up nature didn’t suit me well at all. And yet, he was my best friend. My body would staunchly argue he was entirely and exactly what she needed, including the length of his cock and his aggressive sex. Fortunately for me, at least most of the time, my mind ruled my collective being.
“You didn’t answer,” Bond said as he led me into the front room.
“You noticed that all by yourself?” I sat down on the soft leather sofa, leaving some distance between us and took a sip of wine.
“Am I going to have to spank you, Jacqs?” He held out his big hand, and my heart beat a little faster. “Because you know, not much else would give me as much pleasure as putting you into your rightful place, over my knee.”
“So what do you plan to do?” I said out loud, while my body flamed in silence over his suggestion. I could already feel my pussy throbbing, and he had yet to touch me. I swallowed a larger gulp of wine, trying to distract myself.
“I already told you,” he said as he refilled his glass and topped mine off. “But since you are so inclined to change the subject, how’s your sister doing?”
“Samantha is a train wreck, although—and it seems wrong as hell—she is as gorgeous as ever.”
“And the baby?”
“My mother is taking care of Sarah, who is a love. I just don’t understand why Samantha wouldn’t give her up for adoption when she seems to have no interest in raising her.”
“Where is she staying these days? Is she still seeing the same therapist?” He shifted closer to me, nonchalantly laying his hand on my thigh.
I stared at his fingers, feeling the energy radiating from his palm. His touch caused wetness to gather in my panties. “Uh ummm,” I said, abruptly pushing his hand off me. “She’s living in an apartment with her latest criminal boyfriend. As horrible as it sounds, I’m just grateful she’s not at my place. And no, she stopped seeing the therapist when he insisted she needed to grieve our father’s death. She ranted on about it to me. She said, ‘I’m twenty-fucking-five years old, and they want me to grieve something that happened when I was nine.’ She told him to get a life and to fuck off. She never went back.”
“Sorry, babe. She’s a good kid, deep down,” he said, shaking his head.
“Let’s hope it surfaces soon ... for her sake and Sarah’s.”
“What about your boss? Is work any better?”
“He’s still a huge asshole. I long for the days when he was still on his best behavior. Now he’s just a bull in a china shop, running over everyone. But really, I’d rather not talk about work on my day off.”
He threw his arm around my shoulders and said, “I’ve got some great dope. Want a hit?”
“I’m exhausted because some crazy man got me out of bed at three thirty in the morning.”
“This stuff will perk you up.”
I finished off the glass of wine and said, “Oh? Well, can I crash on your couch tonight?”
�
�Bed and of course.” He winked.
“Couch! And stop winking at me.”
“I guess we shall see?” His relentless stare penetrated my blue-green eyes.
“What about your promise to behave?”
“I’m incapable of behaving when I’m alone with you.”
With sheer will I pulled away from his gaze. I wanted to swipe that confident smile off his face. It had been six months and three days since I had succumbed to his charms, and like an addict attending AA, I had no intention of starting back on day one.
Lainie, my closest friend other than Bond, remind me often, most especially when I complained about Bond to her, how ill-conceived it was to be friends with an old lover. According to her, I’d never gotten over him.
Bond handed me the pipe, and I took a hit. I held in the smoke for a bit, and when I breathed out, I, at once, felt more relaxed and energized. It didn’t lessen the tug on my libido though.
“It’s been awhile since you and I spent any time alone together,” Bond said, pulling me back against him.
I sighed, feeling like I’d come home again. “Mmmhmm,” I muttered.
He took advantage of my relaxation and drew me in for a kiss.
“Wait!” I said, trying to hold him off.
“Don’t play games with me, Jacqs. I can already smell your cunt, and it’s driving me insane.” When his mouth descended on mine, my mind lost the fight, and my body started making all the decisions.
As I shifted my legs across his lap, I threw my arms around his neck, and took in his naturally appealing fragrance. I wanted more; I needed to be closer. My rational mind made one last attempt, trying to persuade me how much I would regret my decision to have sex with him. I mentally kicked her away, deciding to suffer the consequences later.
Bond groaned into my mouth as he schooled me with his tongue. No one had ever tasted so good; I just wanted to eat him alive. He shifted my body around so I straddled his lap, and I felt his profound interest. The forcefulness of his continued kiss compelled my submission. In those moments when my body ruled, the desire to give myself over to him resurfaced.