by Measha Stone
She knew he was right. Doing anything to help catch Ted in the act would be dangerous. If Kendrick was there, if he helped, it would be safer. That had been her plan, to get his help, and go into this together. But everything went to shit before she could even ask him.
Of course, he had the right to tell her no. That's what she wanted; that's what she had gone searching for when she went to the club. It wasn't just sex games; it was the whole package. But the first time he put his foot down, the first time she wasn't given the choice of making her own decision—she'd thrown a fit, screamed at him, and ran away.
Underlying her irritation at being denied what she wanted, she feared they were on a short timeline anyway. They’d never last through marriage and kids…she’d been dreaming too big.
She hadn't been fair. He didn't even know what she was worried about, but she threw it at him all the same.
"I'm a crazy bitch," she muttered to herself as she made her way down another street.
She found herself staring up at Jessica's apartment before she realized where she'd headed. Her phone buzzed several more times with text messages. But just as she did the call, she ignored them.
The front door opened after the first ring. Jessica took one look at Kelly and pulled her into her apartment.
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked, surveying the living room for signs of Royce.
Jessica took Kelly's purse and tossed it on the armchair.
"No. No. Royce is working late, and I have a project—no biggie. What's wrong? Something's very wrong. Did Kendrick hurt you?" Her voice raised with each question.
Kelly shook her head and sunk down into the chair.
"I fucked it all up. I mean that's usual for me, but I didn't want to fuck it up this time. But I did." Kelly squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears she didn't want. Her cell buzzed again, and they exploded from her anyway.
"Okay. Okay." Jessica pulled Kelly to her and held her while she sobbed into her sweatshirt.
Once Kelly quieted down to a soft whimper, Jessica patted her shoulder. "I'm going to get us a bottle of wine, and you're going to tell me everything."
The bottle of red wine sat nearly empty on Jessica's coffee table, while Kelly sat on the couch with her friend, curled into a ball and holding a tight fist around the stem of her glass.
Jessica sat patiently, listening to the entire story before she spoke. "So, you told him about Peltner's call, and he forbade you from having anything to do with it?" she clarified.
"Yeah." Kelly sipped her wine.
"And you flipped out on him?"
"Yeah." She sniffed.
"And you yelled?"
"Oh. Yeah." She admitted, drawing out the last word.
"And he'll never forgive you, he'll never want to marry you. Which is fine because you don't think it's possible to have all of this and be married with kids?" A thin ribbon of sarcasm was weaved into Jessica's voice, but Kelly chose to ignore it.
"Yes." Kelly finished her glass of wine and clunked it down on the coffee table.
"Do you want me to tell you what a dumbass you're being, or do you just want another glass of wine?" Jessica didn't hide her sarcasm.
Kelly glared for a moment then lifted her higher glass of wine. "I'm already aware of what a dumbass I am."
"Kelly, Kendrick is not going to dump you because you yelled at him." Jessica poured the wine as she continued, "I saw him at the restaurant; that man has it bad for you."
"He looked really mad." Kelly took the glass of wine.
"I'm sure he did. If he's anything like Royce, yelling is a big no."
"Royce won't let you yell either?" Kelly sniffled again.
"Oh, he lets me, but then he—well, I try not to do it. Look, Kelly, by the sound of your cellphone buzzing every other minute for the past half hour, I'd say he's trying to get a hold of you. And it's not to dump you." Jessica took the wine glass from Kelly's hand and put it on the coffee table. "Give me your phone."
Kelly pulled it from the pocket in her skirt and handed it to Jessica. "Seven missed calls and ten text messages. That's not a guy wanting to get rid of you; that's a guy trying to find you."
Kelly sighed. "It doesn't change that we won't work."
"Have you asked him about it?"
"Jess, I've been with him all of two weeks. It's not exactly the time to ask about marriage plans." Kelly grabbed her phone back and put it face down on the couch.
"No, but you could ask about his thoughts on marriage," Jessica countered.
"Right, and when he never calls again, I'll know why." Kelly rolled her eyes. "I'll just leave it alone for now." She scraped herself off the couch and slipped her feet into her flats. "Thanks for the wine, I need to get home. It's late, and I've kept you up long enough."
Jessica walked her to the door, handing over Kelly's purse as she opened it. "Promise me you'll talk to him. Don't go trying to figure this all out on your own."
"Okay." Kelly took her purse. "What do I do if he's still mad at me for yelling at him?" She tossed her phone into her bag.
"You apologize, and you accept what comes after." Jessica hugged Kelly.
"Don't you find our situations to be a little odd? I mean Erin would flip her shit if she heard you telling me to accept my punishment like a good girl."
"Yeah, she probably wouldn't understand. But then again, did you think I'd be with someone like Royce?"
"Well, I don't think you would have sought him out, but you needed him." Kelly threw her purse strap over her shoulder and took a deep breath. "Okay, well, thanks for the wine and the shoulder." Another buzzing sound came from her purse.
"Answer him," Jessica called down the stairs as Kelly walked out into the night air.
Chapter 24
Kendrick walked through the work area of Top Floor with a few of his crew members. Construction was well underway, the first four floors already prepping for interior design work to begin. Kendrick had been brought in to advise and implement the security system.
The architect of the project had shown him the plans and had given his suggestions, allowing Kendrick free reign to contradict and do what he felt was best. The entire day was spent in meetings with investors, construction managers, and his own security team. It was not his favorite part of the job, suits bothered the hell out of him, but it was better than sitting in his office, overthinking the situation with Kelly.
He hadn't heard from her since a two-word text around midnight the night before.
I'm home was all she wrote, but it was enough to let him breathe again. He called and texted her so many times he was beginning to feel like an actual stalker. Knowing she was home and safe was enough to allow him to give her the space she needed.
Space that wouldn't stop him from delivering the punishment she had earned herself, or the very lengthy talk they were going to have, but time to come to terms with what happened and the outcome of her actions. He had considered calling Peltner to demand he stay the hell away from Kelly but changed his mind. Kelly would do the right thing; she would obey him in this.
The idea that Peltner was willing to use her as bait rattled Kendrick, and the thought of her actually going through with it terrified him. What if the unit missed something? If someone didn't see the danger or hear a threat and Ted hurt her?
Kendrick had left the department so he could prevent things from happening to innocent people, allowing Kelly to dangle herself in front of Ted was the exact opposite.
He had to keep her safe. Thinking of anything bad happening to her crushed him, sucked the breath right out of his lungs. He’s never reacted to any woman that way before, not even Elizabeth. It wasn't only Kelly's submissive side he craved and adored; it was her humor, her outrageous ideas, and the way she seemed to shake him loose from his own confines of structure. Chatting over a glass of wine was as intimate with her as having his hands all over her body. She engaged all his senses, sexually and mentally.
"Kendrick." Th
e foreman tapped him on the shoulder. "I think that about does it for today. I'll have them run the specs you gave me and see what we can come up with."
Kendrick checked his watch. Kelly should be starting her last lecture and lab of the day.
"Thanks." He took care of a few last details and headed out.
His car was parked in a lot a block down from the club, and he took his time walking to it. With Kelly in classes for another hour, he had plenty of time to get to home and get ready for her.
He shot her a text, telling her to arrive at his place after she got off work. No stops before. He was relieved to receive confirmation from her before he reached his apartment. It was a simple okay, but it was better than a no.
After taking a quick shower, Kendrick went into his closet to pull out the items he would need when she arrived. He hadn’t lied when he warned her his punishments were direct and involved no pleasure for either of them.
As he finished laying out what he needed, the doorbell rang.
Kelly stood outside Kendrick's door with a trembling stomach and swirling head. She’d been on edge since receiving his text. She reminded herself again what Jessica had told her. Apologize and accept.
Kelly thought she had herself steadied, but when Kendrick opened the door, her nerves began to dance again.
"Hi." She smiled meekly. "Uh. You beckoned me?"
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"May I come in?"
"Yes," he said and stepped aside to let her in. She walked past him and stood in the hall, unsure of where to go or what he wanted her to do. She braced herself for the breakup speech. He wouldn’t be blamed, not after how she acted. And she wouldn’t make it worse by crying.
"Remove your clothing, fold it, and place it neatly in a pile beside the door." He pulled her purse from her shoulder and turned to put it in the closet.
She stared at him. What?
"Kelly, do you have trouble with your hearing as well as your mouth?" he asked in a stone-hard tone.
“You’re not…I mean we aren’t breaking up?”
“Over one tantrum? No,” he said, but his voice was far from re-assuring.
"You're still mad?" she asked, picking up the hem of her sweater.
"No. I'm not mad." He shook his head and leaned against the closet door. "But I'm not happy either. Instead of spending the evening having a nice dinner and taking a walk down to the ice cream shop like I wanted to tonight, we have to spend the night working on your temper and getting through your punishment."
If he would soften his glare, she could accept her fate with a bit more grace. But nothing about the evening was going to be easy. Her bad behavior had gotten her into it, and now she would have to deal with the consequences.
"Punishment?" She swallowed; her hands froze on her shirt. "I'm sorry for yelling."
"And storming out, and ignoring all my calls and text messages?"
Her stomach turned, and she took a deep breath. "Yes, for those things too. I was angry, confused, and annoyed." Even as the words left her mouth, she knew that although he cared about her feelings, he wouldn't let them waylay him.
He looked every bit determined. With his arms folded firmly across his chest and his eyes narrowed, he stared at her.
"Angry and annoyed, I get. Why confused?" He didn't move when he asked his question. "And you can answer while you begin removing your clothes." His jaw remained firm as he repeated the instructions.
With a heavy sigh, she pulled her shirt over her head. Apologize and accept—great in theory. The apology was easy; the accepting was a bit more difficult. Knowing she was in the wrong seemed like it should have been enough. Lesson learned, right?
"I was confused because although I wanted you to put your foot down, I was irritated that you did," she said as she folded her shirt and placed it on the floor. "I'm not used to pushing against an authority that doesn't back down." She surprised herself with this confession as she shoved her jeans over her hips and stepped out of them.
"You don't want me to back down. Not even from this punishment."
She paused. He was right. She didn't want him to forgive and forget that easily. She had been disobedient, disrespectful, she wanted—needed—her punishment.
"I suppose not," she allowed, sliding her panties down her legs, she kicked them onto the pile of clothes.
He stepped to her and pulled her hands down when she went to unclasp her bra. She watched his face as he reached behind her and undid it himself. Still bland. No anger. No arousal. He pulled the bra down her arms and dropped it on top of her discarded panties.
"Kneel," he directed, before stepping back.
There was no hesitation; she moved down to her knees, feeling the hard, cold tile beneath them and hoped she wouldn't have to be in that position for very long.
He reached around and pulled something out of his back pocket. It hung from his hand as he squatted down in front of her.
"Being conflicted about your obedience and my dominance is natural. You're human," he explained in a soft flat voice. "You had the choice to stay and work it out—punishment or no punishment—or run away. You chose to run. We can't work a problem out if you choose to yell, not listen, and flee. Because you made the wrong choices last night, you will have no choices tonight. Because you couldn't control your mouth last night, you have lost the right to use it freely."
Kelly looked into his eyes as he spoke, not because he seemed to command it with his presence, but because it felt like the safest place to be. He wasn't dumping her. He wasn't throwing her away; he was taking control and putting them back on track. All she had to do was accept it. Accept him.
"Tonight, you'll wear this." He put his hand up to dangle the small ball gag between them.
She'd seen them before, but the idea of having to wear one was unappealing. The straps would look silly in her hair. Many women complained about the drooling factor because they couldn't close their mouths.
The red rubber ball didn't appear overly large, but she was still certain she wouldn't be able to move her lips easily.
"If you need something, you'll ask first. I suggest you get creative in how you do that." He moved behind her.
The ball pressed against her lips. "Open," he ordered, and after one lick to her bottom lip, she obeyed. The ball was pulled into her mouth, and he began working the strap behind her.
"I'm glad you braided your hair today; it will make this easier," he said, pulling on the strap. Some of her hair tugged, and she grimaced at the sharp pain in her scalp.
Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as he finished fastening the buckles. She had to look ridiculous. His tone still had not lightened, and there was no pleasure in his gaze when he returned to his position in front of her.
"No choices tonight. Do you understand?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Words, Kelly," he demanded in a harder tone. How many times had he explained that to her?
The gag muffled her voice, but she managed to answer him.
"Do you have an early class tomorrow?"
She answered verbally but shook her head as well to be sure he understood her. She couldn't feel any smaller than she did at that moment. Then she realized there would be a puddle of drool soon because of the gag and her stomach sank even lower. If she'd just kept control of her temper—of her words—this wouldn't be happening.
"I'd like you to stay the night. Is that possible?" he asked, and again, she nodded along with her answer.
Would the punishment last all night? Did he mean to torture her with sleep deprivation?
He stood up and quietly walked down the hall and into the living room. She remained motionless. She hadn't been given leave to follow, but he didn't say to stay. Her knees were becoming sore from the hard flooring beneath her. The television was turned on, and s laughter came from the audience of whichever sitcom he had flipped to.
"Come here," he finally called to her.
She stood and walked
to the living room, rubbing the ache from her knees.
Kendrick sat on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table. He had removed his shoes and lined them up next to the sofa. His sock-clad feet crossed at the ankle rested on the table, while his hands were folded behind his head. Wasn’t he every bit the comfortable, at-ease couch potato.
"Sit with me." He gestured to the cushion on the floor beside his legs.
Once she was situated, she pulled her knees to her chest. The chill in the room crept around her. He seemed to be ignoring her discomfort, and she found his laughter at the television show to be almost forced. She scooted closer to him and hugged her knees. The stiffness in her jaw was beginning to irritate her, and she could feel a buildup of saliva creep to the edge of her lips.
"Don't. No wiping." He tapped two fingers on her head when she raised her hand to wipe her mouth.
She didn't look back at him, only pulled her legs up further into her body. For him to see her drooling would be a humiliation she wasn't ready to bear.
The television flicked off, and Kendrick moved his feet from the table. "Stay here until I call you," he directed with a flat tone and got up from the couch, leaving her.
The air in the room swirled around her naked body, and she wondered briefly if he had purposely made the room cooler than usual. The longer she sat curled on the cushion, the longer she had to mentally berate herself for having been such a brat the night before. Surely, she could have held on to her temper. Flying off the handle didn't get her anywhere. He hadn't interested in listening to her reasoning, and she'd refused to listen to his. Nothing could be solved that way.
He had every right to be upset with her. Stomping out of the apartment and ignoring his calls was childish at best. She had told him she would obedient, that she would follow his rules. Staying away from Ted was definitely one of them, and she'd pushed him on it. There were other ways to bring up the subject without getting him riled up and herself into the mess she now found herself in.
She began to wonder what he might have in store for her. Would he leave her in the living room to freeze all night? Was he going to keep the horrible gag in until morning? She wiped her chin on her knee, removing the spittle.
