by Measha Stone
"Your pain is my pleasure." He nodded and laughed, a low guttural sound that warmed her. "Sorry, a little cliché I guess. Yes, Erin, I like your pain. I like the sounds you make when the flogger strikes. The way your eyes open wide when I pinch those nipples of yours. And when you beg me, my dick damn near explodes."
"Oh." His thumb ran over her lower lip, and she reached out with her tongue and licked him. He grinned. "And outside of the bedroom?"
"Outside of the bedroom, our dynamic doesn't change." A sadness flashed in his eyes, as though he'd confessed a dark sin.
"Will I still get to make you breakfast in the mornings?" She tried to smile. She wanted to. She wanted to make his coffee, bring him his meals, make his bed. She wanted to do all the things that made his life a little easier.
"Absolutely." Relief washed over his face. "And dinner if you want."
"It won't bother you to have me underfoot?"
"You won't be. You'll be exactly where I want you." His hands framed her face. Lightly, his lips brushed hers, then with more force, until he claimed her in a possessive kiss. His tongue dove deep inside her mouth as he pressed his body against her, trapping her against the counter behind her. His hand slid behind her, entwining in her hair as he deepened the kiss. She rested her hands on his chest, not pushing, not clawing, just taking in the strength of him as she kissed him back. She needed him in that moment, needed his strength.
His mouth curled into a lewd grin. "There will be other things. Things I ask you to do you may not like, but I'll expect you to do them anyway."
"Okay." There was little doubt in her mind she would say no to him about anything.
"So accommodating." He chuckled. “We'll see. For now, I'll have George drive you to work. What time do you think you'll be finished?" He kept his hand fisted in her hair. The pain of it being pulled only centered her attention on him more.
"I have meetings this morning. I was planning on working until dinnertime."
"Good. I'll meet you here for dinner." His fingers slowly released her hair but didn't move from behind her head.
"I have to go back to my house. I need clothes. I need to get my mail."
"Fair enough. George can drive you." She shook her head. "Already defying me?" He grinned down at her.
"The train would be faster that time of day."
He raised an eyebrow. The man could look downright terrifying when he wanted to. "Okay. I'm supposed to take the nightshift tonight anyway. Alex apparently has fucked up with Alyssa and is side-tracked. I'll be home by ten at the latest—once everything's in full swing at the club." He drew her against him, tucking her under his chin. She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her. "George will pick you up at your house at eight o'clock, not a second later." He kissed her forehead and let her go.
"Okay." She nodded and took a deep breath. "I need to get my purse." She left him in the kitchen, her insides still trembling. He wanted her to stay. He wanted her to stay the whole week. Maybe more. One part of her told her she was moving too fast, to slow down before she crashed, but the other part—the part she normally ignored—cheered her on. She needed a cheerleader right now.
Erin walked into her old bedroom and looked around. She'd been staying with Bradley for several days, and already, her house felt more foreign than his. The last several days had opened her mind to a part of herself she'd been trying to hide. Not just from the outside world, but mostly herself. If she had admitted to her desires and needs, she would have had to admit Jonathan wasn't the guy for her. She would have seen he was the guy at the moment, but not the guy for forever.
Not that she deluded herself into thinking Bradley would be forever. She wouldn't go that far. She wouldn't allow herself to think that. It would only make it that much harder when she had to leave—when he was finished showing her what he wanted to show her. She didn't want to think about that either. It didn't seem to matter which direction her thoughts went, the endpoint was the same: disappointment. But she'd spent most of her young life preparing for the future, planning, and plotting. This time, she was going to let the dice roll. See how things played out. She could do that. Right?
The living room felt cold. She decided to turn down the AC. She wasn't staying there, no reason to throw money out the window. Her cell buzzed, and she grabbed it right away, expecting a call from Bradley. One of his rules involved her phone. If he called or texted, she was never to ignore it. If she was busy, she was to respond with a timeframe of when she'd get back to him.
"It's about respect," he had explained. "I won't ignore you, and I won't be ignored." She didn't see anything wrong with that. She knew a few girls at work who liked to play games with their boyfriends or husbands. Ignoring them until they got the apology they wanted or played hard to get by being evasive. It was a petty game, and she was glad he felt the same.
Where are you???
Kelly again. She'd gotten at least five texts a day between Jessica and Kelly. From what she'd found out from Bradley—which wasn't much—Alex had his hands full begging forgiveness from Alyssa. She'd only met Alyssa a few times, but Bradley assured her she was worth his groveling, and Alex deserved every rejection he got until she was good and ready to forgive him.
Home. Busy.
There. She hadn't ignored her. Bradley had been adamant she contact her friends after she left his house on Monday morning. They were concerned, and even though she knew Kendrick knew where she was, Kelly and Jessica would be climbing the walls if she didn't at least let them know she was alive. But it wasn't enough for them. They continued to dig for details she wasn't ready to spill.
They'd kept plenty of secrets from her. She wanted this one—this one time to be all her own and all about her. She didn't want to analyze or judge it; she just wanted to keep enjoying it while she had it. Kelly, of all people, would probably understand, but she'd still want all the details and information. A few more days, then she'd get them together for lunch or something. But not yet.
Erin found a pile of mail spilled on the floor in the front hall and sighed. She'd put a hold on mail, but apparently Jonathan hadn't. She picked up the envelopes one by one. All but one was addressed to Jonathan—bills and junk mail. The one addressed to her didn't have any stamps on it, but had her full name and address. No return address either.
She tossed Jonathan's mail on the small table and slid her finger into the fold of the envelope. Turning it upside down, several photographs spilled out into her hand. Each one of her. From the night of the auction. The first two pictures were of her getting out of the cab and going inside. The third was of her and Bradley. Someone had seen them cross the back street. The last photo zoomed in on their hands, capturing the leash tethered to her wrists as Bradley led her across to the garage.
Jonathan had teased her when she'd put a chair in the front hall, calling it useless. She sank into it when her knees gave out. Someone had seen them. Someone had taken pictures! Of her on a leash! She shoved her hand in the envelope again, afraid she'd find more pictures, but what she found was worse: a letter with demands.
Peek a boo! I see you! Your master possesses more than he should. Things that rightfully belong to me. I need information. I'll be in touch with my needs. For now…enjoy the fun while it lasts. I would suggest not involving him, otherwise these photos and more will have to be exposed. Not sure how your parents or your work would feel about your extracurricular activities.
It took a moment for her to catch her breath. Then she read it again. Who would want information about Bradley? What sort of information? And why the hell would they think she could get it? She'd only known him for a brief time. He wasn't going to spill any secrets to her, none that some stranger could use to blackmail him. And even if he did, she wouldn't hand over those secrets. Would she?
She hadn't even told her parents yet about her breakup with Jonathan. If they received those photographs, it would scare the hell out of them. They'd probably think she'd been kidnapped. Her head began to ache.
The front door swung open, and Jonathan swept into the hallway, surprising her. She screamed and jumped up from the chair. He looked her over with narrowed eyes and shook his head.
"It's just me. Calm down."
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, bending down to pick up the photographs before he could see them.
"I wanted to grab my mail. You haven't been home."
"Your mail is over there." She pointed to the small pile on the table.
"Where've you been staying?" His question annoyed her. Did she hear a snip of jealousy there?
"Out. I've been out." She eyed him. He'd lost more weight, and his face was pale considering the sun had been blaring for the past several weeks.
He looked her over again and shook his head. "You haven't talked to Jessica or Kelly. Both have sent me worried texts."
"I'm handling it," she snapped. He'd never really considered himself part of their group, so it wasn't surprising he'd ignore them when they reached out. Her phone buzzed, and she looked down at it, expecting it to be one of them. They had that sort of timing lately. Bradley. She declined the call with the intent to send him a quick message, but Jonathan derailed her.
"Well, I'm glad you're here actually." He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a bank envelope. "I was going to leave this for you if you weren't here again. I closed out the checking account. Here's your half. I also closed the credit card and paid off the balance. I took what was needed to pay it off from the checking before I split the money."
She took the money from him and shoved it into her purse, along with the mystery mail she'd received. "The bank let you close the account without me?"
"Yeah. I was primary, you were only a signer on the account. I'm going to make an appointment for a realtor to come out and assess the house. We should list it soon. The housing market isn't so bad right now. We should at least get back what we spent."
"I haven't decided what I want to do. Maybe I'll buy you out of it." Her temper rose. He was making all sorts of decision for her now that he was out of her life.
"You can't afford to buy me out, Erin. Plus, you don’t need a big place like this, and the yardwork, the shoveling in the winter…" He tilted his head. "Just put the house up for sale. Make this easy."
"On you or me? ’Cause you’ve seemed to have it easy this whole damn time." She didn't wait for a response. She turned on her heel and went to the kitchen. She needed water and to get the hell away from him.
"Look, I'm sorry for the way this played out. Obviously, I hurt you."
"Oh, shut up!" Erin yelled at him as he made his way into the kitchen. "I don't want to hear apologies or anything else. I just want a few days to figure out what I'm going to do about my living situation. You've had six months to figure all this out. The least you can do is give me a few days."
He paled slightly at her outburst, then nodded. "Fine. A few more days." He turned to leave but paused. "Erin, if you haven't been staying here, and the girls don't know what's going on, where are you staying?" If he hadn't said it with so much concern in his voice, she would have rolled her eyes and ignored him.
"With a friend, Jonathan. Please. Just. Go." Her phone buzzed again, and she picked it up, showing him she had a call before turning away. She declined Bradley's call again, but put the phone to her ear, pretending to answer it. When the front door shut, she put the phone back in her purse and took several calming breaths.
Dealing with Jonathan, even now, after having finally realized their relationship had been over long ago, left her exhausted. Remembering the envelope with the pictures in her purse terrified her. Knowing she'd ignored two calls from Bradley without a response set her nerves on edge.
How exactly had life gotten so damn complicated?
Chapter 13
Bradley watched the clock tick off another minute as he sat at his desk. His mind continuously wandered to Erin and what was going on with her. She hadn't come home last night, giving the excuse that she needed to run by her house and was too tired to make it back into the city. It wasn't that he didn't believe her, he had been keeping her pretty busy at his house—something he wasn't the least bit sorry for. He couldn't keep his hands off her, and he wasn't even willing to try.
He could tell something was stressing her out, but she wouldn't tell him what it was. She insisted everything was fine. No trouble, just tired. Deciding he needed a distraction, he went in search of coffee. A walk would do him good.
When he had suggested Erin stay with him for another week, his intentions were to overload himself with her until he could manage to get her out of his system. It was backfiring. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her.
Her responses to his training, his desires, came to her as easily as breathing. He'd taught her his favorite positions, his preferred method of addressing him, all of which she'd smiled and absorbed into her mind and used perfectly later. She gave no resistance. It was as if she were being handed her own present wrapped up in a perfect bow.
"Bradley." Kendrick's bellow pulled him from his own thoughts.
Turning to see the man stalking into the coffee shop toward him, he sighed. "Kendrick." He gave a curt nod.
Kendrick frowned. "Where's Erin?"
"I assume at work." Bradley looked at his watch. "It is eleven in the morning. That's usually where she is."
"Oh." Kendrick rubbed his neck. "Yeah. I guess." He looked at Bradley and winced. "Sorry. I worry. Erin's been distant, and Alex usually handles this stuff when the girls get into a tiff, but he's pre-occupied."
"Ah, so you've been nominated?" Bradley tried not to laugh at the discomfort on Kendrick's face. "She's fine. She did send Kelly and Jessica a message telling them she was okay." The line moved, and the two shifted with it.
"Yeah, Kelly's more pissed now than before because all Erin says is she's fine and busy." Kendrick shook his head. His eyes widened. "What the fuck?" He leaned to the side, as if to get a better look at something. Bradley turned to follow his eyesight. "Jonathan?" Kendrick whispered the name, but Bradley heard it. His ears perked, and his skin tingled at the sound of it.
Standing five feet away was an average built man, about his age, with short blond hair, wearing a standard suit. His eyes were dancing with lust as he grinned at the young woman sitting across the table from him. Her barista apron covered her body, but he could imagine what Jonathan was picturing in his mind.
"Fuck," Bradley growled.
"You know?" Kendrick moved behind Bradley, keeping out of Jonathan's line of sight. "Does she? I mean, I guess she does. What the fuck is going on? Do I go over there and punch him in the face, or do I leave that to you?"
Bradley did laugh then. A soft, uncomfortable chuckle. He turned back to Kendrick. "No, I get to do that, but not yet. Yes, Erin knows." He glanced back over his shoulder and took a calming breath. That was the douchebag who hurt her. He had deserted her for that little girl sitting across the table from him. Torn between throwing him through the window, and thanking him for letting her go, he kept his focus on Kendrick. If he looked at Jonathan again, he couldn't promise he'd keep his hands to himself.
"When did all this happen?"
"I think it's better if Erin explains everything." Bradley didn't like that Erin hadn't explained anything to her friends yet, but he didn't feel comfortable being the one to do it. She would have to take care of it—and soon. "I met her after." He allowed that much information. Not that anyone who knew Erin would think she'd stray, but he wanted to be sure Kendrick knew it.
"Friday is her pick for dinner." Kendrick kept his gaze on Jonathan as he spoke. "If you can keep her from blowing us off again, she can explain everything then. Everyone is getting worried, and I can only hold Kelly back so long. She'll eventually take matters into her own hands."
"There are ways to keep her in line." Bradley grinned.
"Uh huh." Kendrick nodded. "When it comes to protecting a friend, she won't care about the consequences." He gave a shr
ug. "Some things are better unchanged."
"Agreed." Bradley looked over his shoulder, then back to Kendrick. The blonde had stood up, wiping her hands on her apron. "So, are you going to talk to him?"
"Not if I can help it. I'll want to kick his ass." As the words came out of Kendrick's mouth, the blonde leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed Jonathan.
Bradley could practically hear the steam leaving Kendrick's ears, but was more concerned with the anger rising in his own chest. He'd kill before letting that whelp of a man hurt Erin again, and although she said she'd moved on, realized she hadn't truly been in love, he could sense the hurt in her. Jonathan may not have really had her heart, but he had her trust, and he had stepped all over it.
"Can I help you?" The short, wide-eyed young woman behind the counter grinned up at Bradley. Help him? Oh yeah, coffee. He placed his order, while seeing Jonathan move closer to them out the corner of his eye. Kendrick became focused on the pastry counter, giving Jonathan his back as he approached. Bradley noticed the tension in Jonathan's shoulders as he paused briefly in his step. If Kendrick were to turn at that moment, he would have been eye to eye with the ass, but Jonathan moved away quickly. Bradley watched the coward shuffle out of the coffee shop, avoiding Kendrick, and all but running down the street away from them.
"Kelly may kill him." Kendrick shoved his hands into his jeans. "I might just let her."
Bradley stepped to the side, waiting for his coffee, Kendrick right behind him. "You keep that feisty redhead away from him. It's Erin's fight. She can handle a hell of a lot more than you give her credit for."
Kendrick looked back at the door, then to Bradley. "Yeah, I'm beginning to think that's true."
Bradley thanked the brunette handing him his coffee and turned toward the exit. "Aren't you getting coffee?"
"What? No. I saw you in the window. I'm headed to the club, need to check over a few rosters for next weekend."
Bradley shook his head. "Do you think I'd hurt her? That I'd have her tied up somewhere against her will?"
