Bonds of Courage (19 page)

“If it’s abnormal to want to inflict pain on someone, then it’s even more demented to be the person who wants the pain. Right? So what does that make me?”

He had her there, but... There were so many buts.

“Beautiful,” she answered honestly. “Amazing and beautiful to me.”

“Then we’d have crazy, beautiful, demented kids.” He cupped her face, the gentleness ripping her apart. “Or not. It doesn’t matter though, because all I want is you.”

Oh, God. The queasy sickness rolled through her hotter than the heat of the sun. How did she respond to that? To everything that was in his eyes?

She stepped away, his hands falling to leave her cheeks cold. “We should start back,” she said as she bent to grab the water bottles from the ground. “Let’s take the long way through the woods for something different.”

His sigh was soft, but she heard it, along with the frustration within it. For once, the sound didn’t come from her. She kept her lips tightly closed because she knew if a sigh came out of her it’d hold too much regret.

“Okay.” His agreement was easy, the lightness back in his face. “But it’s uphill part of the way. You think you can handle that?”

She arched her brow, the challenge raised. “I can handle you, can’t I?”

“Well...” he rumbled, chest puffed out, a cocky grin in place. All he needed was the pants-hitch to complete the arrogant posturing. Fortunately he refrained from doing that, but he did throw in the sniff. “Who wouldn’t want to handle this?” He crouched into a muscle pose with his arms flexed in arcs before him.

“Oh, God.” She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated show, but her laughter was rich and full when it flowed through the clearing.

“What?” The faked innocence was almost as enduring as his submission. “Come on. Admit it. All this turns you on.” He switched into another pose, complete with a god-awful smarmy grin. It was too much. And so what she needed.

She glanced around then walked up to him and grabbed hold of his balls through the material of his nylon shorts. He instantly hunched forward. There was something so enticing about watching his eyes go wide before they rolled back, his mouth gaping with heavy breaths. She pulled down, and he fell to his knees, going to the ground as she squatted, her grip firm.

It was another second, two, three before he opened his eyes to reveal the heated mix of pain and desire within them.

“This turns me on,” she said, squeezing for emphasis. The press of the tender globes in her hand was a shot of power that heated her blood.

“Yes, Vanessa.” Even here, on a moment’s notice, he switched to the reverent tone of a submissive. It encircled her, praised her dominance and reinforced her control.

“You giving me this turns me on.” Her heart raced with his panting breaths and she pressed just a bit tighter. His resulting tremble vibrated through her hand and went straight to her core.

He pitched forward, his gulping gasps rushing over her damp neck as he dug his forehead into the curve of her shoulder. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Words too true, spoken too sweetly in a choked voice that made her want. Made her wish and even dream a little.

Sweat slicked his skin, his heart pounded against her arm and she was powerless against the emotions that rolled in her stomach and had her pulse matching his. Desire, fear, comfort, hope and something else that confused her even more.

She let go, opening her arms for him to collapse into. She held him, or maybe he held her, until their breathing evened out. The grass dug into her knees and her thighs protested the odd angle, but she didn’t shift or let go. Not until he was ready.

Chapter Twenty-One

Holden sat back on his comfortable couch, feet resting on the coffee table in front of him. He swallowed the bite of pizza, a grin returning. The damn perma-grin had been in place for most of the day, not that he was complaining.

Vanessa’s soft laugh drew his gaze from the movie they were watching to study her. Freshly showered and wearing one of his old green-and-white Michigan State shirts like a dress. She’d stretched the material over her bent knees to huddle beneath it. Gone was the tension and control that usually armored her every action, replaced by relaxed contentment.

In the quiet of his house, the outside world shut out, he knew he was getting a treasured glimpse of her that few were fortunate to see. She’d blessed him with that through most of their day. Biking, sitting by the lake, laughing—it was one his best days in a very long time.

He wanted more of this. Her. Vanessa, V, Mistress—every part of her.

She caught his eye. Maybe it was the look on his face or the intimacy of the room lit by soft lights and the glow of the TV. He didn’t know, but her smile faded and the stiffness returned.

“I should—”

“Don’t,” he overrode her, reaching out to hold her knee. “Stay.”

She shook her head, the still-damp ends of her hair falling in spiky ends down her chest. “I can’t, Holden.”

“Why?” He wasn’t particularly proud of the frustration that came out in the question, but it was there for her to hear.

Her gaze darted away, landed on the TV before skipping to the remains of their dinner spread over the coffee table. “I have work to do that I blew off all day.”

“That’s an excuse. Tell me the real reason.”

Her glare pierced through him. “I do have work.” She stood, her movements stiff as she gathered up the dirty paper plates and napkins and tossed them on top of the pizza box.

“Leave it.” He grabbed the box from her hands. “I’ll get this later.”

Her sigh was heavy and loaded with the weighted patience that’d been absent all day. Damn. He didn’t want her to be mad. He set the box down and stood.

“Hey.” He ducked his head and dared to turn her chin until she looked at him again. “Sorry. I won’t push. Okay? I had a great day. Thank you.”

The slight tremble of her chin lasted an instant, and he probably wouldn’t have noticed if it hadn’t vibrated through his fingertips. “Me too,” she finally said. “It was nice.”

Nice
wasn’t the word he’d use, but he’d take it from her. “It was.” He dropped his hand and scooped up the pizza mess to take it to the kitchen. Back to the neutral zone. He got that. Didn’t like it at all, but it was what it was. “I’ve been thinking,” he said when she entered the kitchen.

“You do that?”

He glanced at her, the snarky smirk giving her away. “Har, har.” The lid of the trash can banged closed and he wiped his hands on a towel. “Seriously.” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly uncertain.

She leaned her forearms on the marble island, and he tore his gaze away from the tempting show of cleavage the baggy neckline revealed. That quirky smile of hers said she knew exactly where his focus had been. He flashed a grin, not caring.

“What were you thinking about?” she prompted.

Oh, yeah. “Liv’s youth center could really use an overhaul. They need air conditioning, new supplies, paint, and I’m sure the windows are drafty as hell in the winter.”

Her brows pulled together in a hesitation that matched the tone of her voice. “Yeah, and?”

“Well...” Damn, he hadn’t expected this to be so hard. And why was it? It was a good idea. He knew it. He clapped his hands together, rubbing them in a brisk movement that fueled his conviction. “I could donate some money—and I will. But I was thinking a big fund-raiser would get enough to do all the repairs and upgrades the center needs, plus give them a little backup money.” He bounced on his toes a few times, adrenaline flowing as he warmed to the idea. Like before a game, he was getting himself psyched for the challenge. “A big fund-raiser with the Glaciers’s players and a community carnival and whatever else we can pull together. If we time it at the end of summer, it can be promoted as a meet and greet before the season starts. Most of the guys will be back by the end of August, and I can rope them in if you’re busy, or I can work with the Glaciers’s PR person. I’m thinking signings, floor hockey, other carnival games, maybe a raffle for some tickets and signed stuff. Plus—”

“Hold on,” Vanessa cut in, a soft laugh rolled into the words. “I get it.”

His heart hammered a wild beat of pure nerves. For some crazy reason, it was important that she liked his idea. That she backed him. Her disapproval wouldn’t necessarily stop him but would suck away some of his excitement.

She flipped her head up, brushing her hair away from her face as she straightened. “Why?”

That was the one question he hadn’t anticipated the twenty times he’d run the idea through his head. But it was easy to answer. “Because I want to help.”

“But why?” she persisted. “Why do you want to help? Why Liv’s center?”

“Why not Liv’s center? It does good things.
She
does good things.” He leaned in, the marble cold under his palms. “Most of the kids just need a little sign that they’re loved and know they have a safe place to go. Liv gives them that and a chance at something better. With an updated facility and the extra funds, she can continue to do that and maybe help more kids.”

The silence stretched as she studied him, her lips pursed in a hard line that matched any general manager contemplating a problem player.

“Look, V.” He moved around the island and stood in front of her. The desire to tuck her into his arms and force her to feel his sincerity was so strong he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from doing so. “It’s not a way to manipulate you. That’s the truth. Most players have more money than we need, and charity donations are a tax write-off. But the kids want to see the guys more than they want a random check. The center will benefit from the money raised, but it’s the kids I want to help.”

Her head moved in a slow shake that wasn’t disagreement but definitely wasn’t acceptance. “I don’t get you.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“It hasn’t changed.”

“Maybe you should stop trying to analyze me and just go with it.”

Her eyes narrowed before a smile cracked her hard shell. A puff of amusement or maybe derision flowed out before she shook her head again. “I won’t have that much time to help you.”

His grin creased his checks and pulled on his jaw. “No problem. I’ll organize it. Just give me the names of some contacts and I’ll do the rest.” His excitement bubbled out as the idea solidified. Her statement was the approval he’d been seeking.

“Have you talked to Liv about this?”

“Not yet. I wanted to run it by you first.”

“Why?”

There was that question again. “Because this stuff is your area. If you thought the idea was crap, you’d tell me and I wouldn’t waste my time.”

“The idea’s not crap. It’s actually pretty good. The Glaciers can get a lot of publicity out of something like this.”

“And it would help out that neighborhood and the kids. That’s the real point.”

“You’re right. It would.”

He hauled her in for a tight hug, his exuberance overflowing into the kiss he planted on her lips. A kiss that deepened to remind him of the ache that remained in his tender balls and the desire that simmered when she was near. The blend of iced tea and pizza sauce sweetened her usual flavor.

She pulled away, stepping out of his arms. Her eyes were gentle when she reached up to rub a thumb over his still-tingling lips. “I have to go. My flight leaves at six a.m.”

A glance at the clock showed it edging toward eight already. “Do you need a ride to the airport?” There was always a shot she’d say yes.

“I use a car service.”

A long shot that went wide. “All right.” He dropped another kiss to her mouth before giving her butt a light pat. “You can wear that home. No one will see you.”

She glanced down at the oversized shirt and looked at him from under her lashes. “Sounds like a great way to torment you.”

He frowned. “How?”

Her smile was positively devious. “The things you have to learn, grasshopper.” The ring of her chuckle flowed down the hall behind her as she headed toward the front door.

“Oh teach me, wise one,” he called. He flicked off the lights and darted into the family room to turn off the television before meeting her by the door.

She leaned against the wall, her dirty biking clothes held in a bundle along with her tennis shoes. The sight of her bare feet was oddly erotic to him, and his semi didn’t need any more encouragement before his bruised balls would remind him why getting hard wasn’t the best idea.

She turned around, flashed him a wicked grin, then dangled her lacy red underwear over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

The door hung open, and he had to pick his chin off the floor as she sashayed down the walk to his car.
Holy fuck
.

“I’m waiting,” she singsonged through the humid evening air, the damn underwear taunting him as they swayed in time with her hips.

He cleared his throat, adjusted his stiffy, wincing only a little when he nicked his nuts. Grabbing his wallet and keys from the bowl on the hall table, he followed her at a pace that kept her waiting just a tad. It’d serve her right if a neighbor saw her standing next to his SUV looking like she’d just stepped out of bed. Yet the thought of anyone but him seeing her like that had his feet moving faster.

The ride over to her house was both long and done in a blink.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Holden.”

Her soft order was followed by shifting on the leather seat. Of course he had to look, a quick glance at least, to see what she was doing. The sight of his shirt hiked up around her waist, her legs spread wide and her fingers stroking her exposed pussy—the red nails dipping in and out of her folds—almost caused him to swerve into the curb.

Shit.
He jerked his focus back to the road and sucked in a breath, only to get a tempting whiff of her arousal.
Oh
,
no way.
His knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel, the leather moist under his hands.

Another peek showed her fingers buried deep within her.
Fuck
. He cleared his throat. “You look a little warm. Should I turn up the air?” The rasp in his voice detracted from the calm front he tried to project.

Her throaty moan was like a stroke over his already hard dick.
Damn it.
He adjusted himself so the zipper wasn’t cutting a jagged line through his boner, not that it did much to ease the soreness that once again throbbed in his balls.

“Hands on the wheel, Holden.” The command was sharp and throaty, sexy.

Right. He clenched his hands at the perfect ten and two positions. Focusing on driving was almost impossible. It was only the thought of her being hurt in an accident or having to explain to a cop why he couldn’t keep his eyes on the road that forced him to concentrate.

“Hmmm.” Her rumbling purr was accompanied with the slick sounds of her pleasuring herself.

Nope.
No.
Not looking
. This had to be one of the hardest commands she’d ever given him. He was boiling. His shirt clung to his back and chest wherever it touched. Cold air blew from the vents, but short of stepping into a freezer, he doubted anything would cool him down.

Cars passed him on the highway, and he stayed in the right lane both out of safety and to prevent any truckers from catching a free show of his Mistress.

Her fingers passed under his nose. There was no way he couldn’t inhale. The reaction was automatic and he sucked in the scent of her heady musky arousal. His mouth opened as he held his breath, another reflex that allowed him to savor the fragrance and to keep from inhaling another round of the aphrodisiac.

The trapped air gushed from his lungs when her fingers traced over his lips. He was helpless to grab another round of her scent.

“Taste me,” she said, the order breathy and erotic as hell.

His groan was one of defeat and desire. He flicked his tongue, an edge of her bittersweet flavor dancing on the tip before he drew her fingers into his mouth. He sucked on the digits, his tongue rolling over and around each one with a fervent passion to get every last drop of her.

Her low chuckle rumbled over him. “You like?”

She eased her fingers out, and he let out a sound of protest before he answered, “Yes, Vanessa.”

With her it was easy to drop into his submissive mode. It didn’t matter that their original agreement set the boundaries as being within her playroom. Little teases like this were definitely a green for him.

Somehow he made it safely to the quiet streets of her neighborhood. The exact details of the drive, including the number of red lights he stopped for, were a blur in his memory. Thank God for autopilot skills that had kicked in somewhere along the way.

Her soft sighs grew louder as he navigated through the subdivision. From the corner of his eye he caught her fingers moving faster, the pace increasing over her clit.
Fuck
. He shifted on his seat, his fingers stiff from the hold he kept on the steering wheel.

“Here.” She grabbed his hand and held it to her wet pussy.
Goddamn
. He didn’t need direction for this. He knew exactly what to do in the hot folds. The hard nub of her clit rolled under his finger before he plunged two digits into her wet channel.

Shit.
Shit.
Shit.

The car rolled into her driveway and he slammed on the breaks before he crashed into her garage door. He pulled away to jam the car into Park, kill the engine and click their seat belts off and then he was on her. Fingers back in her heat, his lips taking hers.

She groaned into him, hips bucking into his hand. It took two fistfuls of his hair being yanked before he ripped his mouth from hers, gasping.

“I didn’t say you could move,” she said. The starchiness of her reprimand was lost in the sigh and roll of her hips as her lids dropped to half-mast over her dark eyes.