TangledTruth

by Delphine Dryden

  Drew wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t want to lie but he didn’t know what Eva would rather he say. He wished they would both stop pretending. It was ridiculous, this hinting around the edges. Better to lay it all out on the table. But that wasn’t his call to make.

  “We met at an exhibit of photography by some mutual friends of ours. I help them out on photo shoots sometimes.”

  “Oh, you’re interested in photography?”

  And then, for a pleasant if surreal twenty minutes or so, Drew and Eva’s mother discussed photography like any two people might discuss a hobby they had in common. Eva relaxed visibly as she joined the conversation, and Drew felt some of his own strain dissipate. He was surprised by her mother’s knowledge about photography and art in general, and to learn that she was a former professional photographer. For some reason it had never occurred to him that Eva’s artistic predilections came from her mother’s side. He associated artists with open-mindedness, a willingness to accept alternative points of view.

  Perhaps that willingness was really the important thing Eva had inherited from her father. It wasn’t the kink, it was the mindset that allowed for a world in which variance from the norm was an acceptable option. She’d had to overcome her mother’s influence in order to accept that trait in herself.

  And she had started to overcome it. Drew had worried about this evening, worried he wouldn’t like watching Eva struggle to gain approval from her mother. He knew enough to know that adults who still seek that sort of approval are never able to find it, and the quest could be soul-destroying. But Eva’s goal, he came to realize as he watched her field her mother’s remarks, was not to fulfill some thwarted childhood need for praise. As far as he could tell, she simply wanted to maintain a connection with this lovely woman who charmed the waiter without even trying, who talked about art and fine wine with such clear enjoyment. This part of her mother, the good part she had kept. He could see that it was worth it to her, that at least for now the cost of dealing with the bad part was high but not impossible.

  The cordial tone, once established, made it harder for Ms. Damron to revert to her earlier mean-spirited digs. All in all, the remainder of the dinner was much more pleasant—or at least less openly hostile—than Drew could have hoped for.

  Chapter Eight

  “I almost outed you,” he admitted to Eva later, when they were back in his apartment and snuggling under the heavy duvet on his bed. “When she asked about the photography exhibit. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her exactly what kind of photography.”

  “Thank you for restraining yourself. Although I think a part of me wanted you to.”

  “Seriously? Because I could call her up. You have her cell number, right?”

  “No, she’s at church with my aunt now, remember? Midnight service.”

  “Midnight…” Drew looked at the bedside clock, confirming the time. “Merry Christmas, then.”

  Eva giggled softly, a fluting sound of happiness that seemed to warm the space around them nearly as much as the touch of their bodies. “I’d actually forgotten. Merry Christmas.”

  “Do you want your present?”

  “You mean there’s a real present, other than the one that keeps bumping my thigh?”

  “Yep. And you’re supposed to be pretending to ignore that. Pervert.”

  She pushed at his chest. “Go get the gift, funny boy.”

  Drew shivered as he dashed to his computer desk, where the brightly wrapped package sat. He detoured to bump up the thermostat a few degrees.

  “Yours is at the gallery,” Eva told him when he returned to the bed and reclaimed his spot beside her. “I’ll get it for you tomorrow. Later today. Unless you’re planning to spend all day at Seth’s?”

  “Not all day. Only the morning. They’ll open presents, and everybody will want to see the ring.”

  “Oh, that’s right, he proposed tonight. How did it go, I wonder?”

  “Since he didn’t call me asking to go out and get wasted, I assume it went well. Here, open this. It’s not a big thing. I thought about getting a bigger thing.”

  “I think we’re at that awkward in-between stage where you aren’t sure which way you should go with things like that.”

  “Exactly,” he agreed. “Although since you just said that and I knew exactly what you meant, I think that officially bumps us into the stage where I should’ve gotten you a bigger present.”

  “That’s also the stage where I can say, ‘there’s always next year’, right?”

  “Ooh, that was smooth. I like how you did that.”

  “Thanks. Is this a CD?” She was working the ribbon off the corners of the flat, square package, and Drew watched her face for her reaction once she finally got the paper off. It took her a second to register the name of the band, and then she flipped the package over and trailed her finger down the list of tracks until she saw Madman’s Honey.

  Eva bit her lip then broke into a huge grin that heated Drew up from head to toe. He was starting to be more than a little too aware of his arousal, of the proximity of his erection to Eva’s body in the dark, warm space under the covers.

  Down, boy, he admonished his unruly penis. Then he added a soothing, Soon, soon.

  “I love it,” she finally declared, and Drew had to stop himself from answering. Because he had been a hairsbreadth away from saying “I love you,” and it was still too soon. It would worry her at first, he thought, and it would possibly require some cajoling and comforting from him before she settled down and said it back. He didn’t want to have that conversation yet. But soon.

  For the moment, he was too busy enjoying the current bumped-up status of their relationship. He nuzzled into Eva’s neck and allowed himself the luxury of rubbing his cock very gently against her leg. Naked, warm, cozy. Nearly perfect.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I’m amazed it’s available on CD.”

  “So. Ropes?” Drew asked hopefully, mumbling as his lips brushed her skin, prompting a shiver from her that he hoped had nothing to do with the cold.

  “Oh, sure,” she said, as if it had never been an issue.

  Drew thought it was warm enough to implement his plan. Or at least, by the time he got through they would both be warm enough. To melt glaciers, quite possibly.

  “Good. Since I don’t have a present to unwrap, I think I’ll wrap one up instead.”

  She angled her head and met his lips in an enthusiastic kiss, leaving him no doubt about how eager she was. Drew forced himself to pull away, to think about his ultimate goal instead of opting for instant gratification. Because the ropes, he knew, would make everything even better.

  “Red?” Eva asked, when she saw the lengths of nylon braid emerge from Drew’s big duffel bag. “That’s so festive. I don’t think I’ve seen that long one before.”

  Drew smiled, passing up the obvious “that’s what she said” opening. “I haven’t used this one on the shoot. I haven’t used this one in quite some time, as a matter of fact, but this is a special occasion. If you have a ponytail holder or something, you may want to put your hair up.”

  He quickly found the center mark and began shaking the loops loose, snapping them out into long snaking lines of sleek, satiny crimson on the floor as Eva vacated the bed reluctantly and rummaged in her purse for a scrunchie. When she had accomplished a messy ponytail and was preparing to dive back under the covers, Drew stopped her. “It’s easiest if you stand up for this part. This is a traditional karada, by the way.”

  Around Eva’s neck the rope went, Drew’s fingers nimbly weaving the symmetrical lengths back and forth to encase her torso in a series of diamond-shaped frames. He worked quickly, starting to feel nervous about his plan, hoping it would be as good as he envisioned.

  “It isn’t very tight,” Eva commented. Her eyes were half closed, and her breathing was getting that shaky edge that Drew recognized. He’d been careful to form the lowest knot on her belly higher than usual, to
leave her clit exposed, but she was moving her hips gently as though she were rubbing that sensitive spot against the restraints. The rope was working its magic, warming her up, pulling her under its spell. His spell, in a way.

  “This way I get to keep it on you longer,” he explained, turning her around to secure the rope behind her back. He couldn’t resist pulling her toward him, pressing himself into her, falling a little under the spell of the rope himself.

  “Yes…” Eva whispered, lifting her hands to twine her fingers in his hair.

  “Not yet,” he said firmly, as much to himself as to anyone.

  “There’s more?”

  “If you’re willing.”

  “Should I be concerned?” She didn’t sound concerned. She sounded dreamy, and sultry, and he wanted to throw her on the bed and ravish her.

  Patience.

  “I don’t think so. Lie down on the bed,” he directed. “On your back.”

  She did it without question, obviously enjoying the movement of the ropes against her body and between her legs as she moved. The vivid red stood out like a beacon against her fair skin, and Drew had to close his eyes a moment before he could walk back over to his bag.

  He pulled out the four additional ropes, also red but shorter, and approached the bed with them in his hand. Tossing one at each corner, he let Eva begin to draw her own conclusions as he turned to one of her wrists and secured it to the tethering rope with a simple cat’s paw tie.

  When he looked back up, she was watching him, her lower lip firmly caught between her teeth.

  “The door’s locked,” she whispered. He wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or reassuring herself, but he nodded.

  She didn’t protest as he moved down to the foot of the bed and tied one of her ankles, leaving plenty of play in the rope. Then up to the other wrist, which she offered to him without comment.

  Drew hesitated before securing Eva’s other foot, his confidence nearly faltering when he heard her breathing out heavily through pursed lips. He waited, but she didn’t withdraw or protest, and after a moment he slipped the rope around her ankle in its tidy twists and then turned back to look at the whole of her.

  She was breathtaking. A study in ivory against the charcoal gray of his sheets, with the bright red rope crisscrossing her body and highlighting all the most delectable bits to perfection. Opened completely to his view, bound in place, unable to hide.

  “Amazing,” he said, groaning at the ache the vision conjured in his groin. His cock was rearing up, hard and eager, throbbing its own approval of his handiwork. He could see the want, the need in Eva’s eyes, but he also saw the anxiety lurking there.

  “Try to get away,” he suggested. He moved on to the bed and straddled her hips, letting her test the limits of her bonds. They were secure, and the exercise seemed to settle her somehow. “How does it feel?”

  “I’m not sure. Drew, please.”

  “Please what?”

  She laughed, sounding happy and nervous. “I’m not sure.”

  “How do you feel when you’re all tied up, Eva? When the ropes are wrapped around you and you can’t get away? Close your eyes and tell me what you feel.”

  She stared at him a few seconds before letting her eyes flutter to a close, her eyelashes forming a lovely fringe against her pale cheek. The little frown mark between her eyes started to fade as she spoke. “I feel the ropes against me. I like the way they pull when I move, like they’re reminding me they’re there. I like feeling them against my ribs when I breathe, and…”

  “What else? No, keep your eyes closed.”

  “I feel like I’m safe. Like I can’t fly apart, the ropes will hold me together no matter what. And I also feel like I’m on display.”

  “And a very nice display it is, too.” Drew traced the outlines of her breasts, the skin just inside the rope diamonds, admiring the way the softness of the flesh was made even more evident by the gentle press of the knots. Eva arched into his touch, her eyes still closed. “I wish I could keep you here all the time, just like this.” Shifting lower, he knelt between her legs to study even more of her at once. “You look so perfect tied to my bed, all spread out and ready for me.”

  A lovely blush stained Eva’s cheeks, and her breathing sounded something like panic. Seated where he was, Drew could also see the slick, glistening evidence of her arousal coating her delicate pink folds. The ropes were drawn snug on either side of her outer lips, teasing the already blushing flesh. He wanted to run his thumbs along that sweet, inviting seam, tease her open and thrust straight into her, but he knew the scene needed something else for completion. For her to move on, and for him to know that she had.

  Turning, he brought one leg over Eva’s red-laced torso and straddled her chest as he lowered his face to lick slowly and carefully at the tip of her clit. He was rewarded with a mewl, a strangled gasp of pleasure, and the sensation of Eva’s teeth nipping at one calf.

  Drew wanted it to last, but his own resistance was fading with each throb of need that pulsed through his balls and made his cock twitch impatiently. Clenching his ass and praying for stamina, he dipped down again and tasted the tang of her, the sour-sweet musk that had started to overflow the bounds of her pussy as she tried to squirm against the restraints.

  She nibbled at him again, more sharply this time. “Drew, come here. I want…I want to do this for you.”

  “It’s for you,” he corrected, but shifted his weight and bent his body closer to her, angling his cock toward her waiting lips. The first wet, warm embrace of her tongue around his overheated tip nearly made him blow his wad like a teenager. He trembled with the effort to resist thrusting, and tried to distract himself from the unbelievable pleasure by returning to his own task. Licking and sucking, teasing and pushing, and every groan of Eva’s was transmitted directly to his cock from the delicious throat he was practically fucking.

  When he sensed she was close, he had to pull his hips away before the building counterpoint of their rhythm sent him careening out of control. Eva tensed, trembling under his mouth, a catch in her voice heralding the orgasm that swept through her with a force even Drew could feel. She screamed against his leg, arching up from the bed, and Drew worked her cunt with his tongue and lips until she begged him to stop.

  “No more. Just need you. Please?” It was almost a whimper, half a whisper, a beautiful shade of sound. Would she come again, he wondered, when he was inside her? Could he survive the pleasure if she did?

  Drew got up with a groan, only long enough to wrestle a condom from its package and slip back into place between Eva’s parted thighs. He thrust into her sharply, without pause or question, his need to be closer to her so great it shut his brain off for a moment.

  But only a moment. He reined himself in enough to brace on his elbows, framing her face with gentle hands. “Honey? Eva, open your eyes. Look at me.”

  She blinked a few times before focusing on him, as if it were too bright despite the dim light in the room. Her smile was fitful, hesitant.

  “Look at me,” Drew repeated. “See me.”

  Her eyes were too bright, full of tears, but her smile broadened at his words and she nodded. “I do see you. It’s okay.” And then, as if she were pleasantly surprised, “I’m okay.”

  He had to move again and so he did, loving the way the force of each thrust was mirrored back to him in her expression. The hint of tension began to melt into something else as he watched, as her body began to respond again. Within the constraints of the rope, she moved under him and he increased his pace to match hers, until both of them were moaning and panting. Drew lost her gaze at some point as the need took over, the tingling knot in his abdomen and balls tightening almost to the point of pain before he finally exploded inside her with a shout of joy and relief. Seconds later, Eva’s cry mingled with his as her body trembled through another orgasm that seemed even more powerful than the first.

  Some vestige of sense kept Drew from collapsing on her until he
had untied her hands and wrists, but he left the karada in place around her body. He felt the ropes between them as he pulled her close, and he used the added leverage to tug her into the ideal spot. For long minutes they spooned in sated silence, until Drew was nearly asleep and assumed Eva was as well.

  It didn’t surprise him entirely, however, when she spoke. “Much better when nobody bursts in and starts whaling on me.”

  “I’d hope so. I mean, that’s setting the bar pretty low. I think I can pretty much always accomplish that.” They chuckled and cuddled closer still. Drew nuzzled Eva’s hair, wondering what it was that made it smell so good. Shampoo? Perfume? Or just her?

  She sighed, a contented and sleepy sound. “I’ll have to work on raising my standards.”

  Chapter Nine

  Danny and Sheila had helped with the gift, Eva admitted as Drew was unwrapping it, but the idea had been hers.

  Drew was too stunned to respond. The mounted canvas he’d revealed was beautiful, breathtaking. It took him a moment to register what Eva was saying.

  “It’s the wrong one!” she insisted, apparently again, as he gave her a quizzical look. “Sheila did the wrong one. She was barely done with the mounting and so she offered to wrap it to save time, so I never got to see the finished product. But she must have—”

  “I love it.”

  “I mean, who gives a picture of themselves? Of course the one I wanted to give you was of me, too, but you couldn’t tell it was me, it was—”

  “Honey, I love it.”

  “I didn’t— You do?”

  “I do. It’s amazing.”

  “Oh. But it has my face. And I don’t think I photograph very well.”

  Drew’s laugh echoed in the big, high-ceilinged space of the nearly empty gallery. “You’ve just spent weeks posing for photographs for a book. For an extremely finicky photographer, I might add. And you had hardly a bad frame in the entire shoot. But this one, I think, is my favorite of all.”

  He turned his attention back to the large photograph, a three-quarters shot of Eva sitting on the ground in front of the dark backdrop, her lower body swathed in the silk robe, her bound wrists held in front of her and obscuring her nipples. It was a candid shot, and she was clearly laughing at something one of them had said. Drew thought he remembered the moment, Sheila cracking a joke and Eva breaking out of her elegant pose. Her face was full of joy and friendship, her hands gently curled under her chin. Sheila had done something to it, desaturated some parts and tweaked the color in other parts, to highlight the rosy tones of the robe, and Eva’s lips and cheeks. Despite the bondage, the whole thing looked like a fond memory from a bygone time, dreamy and fleeting.