Bound to be Tempted: Emergence, Book 4 (18 page)

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Authors: Becca Jameson

Tags: #bondage;BDSM;submissive;Dom;sub;club;erotic romance;kink;gags

BOOK: Bound to be Tempted: Emergence, Book 4
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When he was almost finished, he excused her to use the bathroom.

She lifted herself off the floor, almost reluctant to leave his presence. It was absurd, but she liked the way he looked at her, denying her any privacy. Not that she wanted him to follow her into the bathroom, but she found herself missing his gaze when she was out of his sight.

He was in the bedroom when she emerged. He held her phone out. “It rang. I thought you should know.”

Margaret took it from him and glanced at the caller ID. “My mom.”
Damn
. The woman wouldn’t leave her alone.

“You should call her. That’s four nights in a row.”

She nodded. “I should.”

“You want some privacy?”

Bless him for asking. She almost cried at how sensitive he was, a complete contradiction to what she would find on the other end of the line when her mother picked up. She found herself unwilling to do it alone. She had nothing to hide. He knew the score. And his proximity might even soothe her. “No. Stay. Please, Sir.”

He took her hand and led her to the bed, where he patted the mattress. “Lie down. Relax your body. You’re so tense when your mom calls. I hate it.”

She followed his instructions, climbing onto the bed and stretching out, the phone still clutched in one hand.

Carlton, completely dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, crawled up next to her and leaned on one elbow. He set his hand on her belly and massaged. “Call her. I’m right here.”

It felt weird calling the woman with Carlton at her side. Weirder still that she was naked and he could drive her to distraction if he so chose.

She hit Redial and waited, hoping by some miracle her mother wouldn’t answer and she could leave a message. But luck wasn’t on her side.

“Hello? Margaret? Finally. I’ve been calling you for days.”

“I know, Mom. Sorry. I’ve been busy.”

“Listen. I’m glad you called. We’re having a family lunch here on Sunday. I want you to be here. You haven’t come to the house in ages.”

“Mom—”

“One o’clock. Your Aunt Barbara and Uncle Rocky will be here. They want to see you too. It’s been months since you’ve seen them.”

“Mom, I can’t. I have plans.”

“Cancel them. Just this once, Margaret. Do something your father and I request.”

Your father and I
… As if her mother had a firm bone in her body. She knew her father had put her mother up to this.

Margaret cringed. She lifted her gaze to meet Carlton’s. His eyes were narrow slits of concern. His hand pressed into her, anchoring her amazingly. He said nothing. He nodded. He could hear every word. Her mother was loud. He was telling her to go. Did he think she would take him with her? She wasn’t ready for something like that.

On a sigh, she responded, “Fine, Mom. But only for a few hours. I have work to do. It’s a busy time at the office.”

“Perfect.” Her mother’s voice sounded so excited Margaret almost felt guilty. “We’ll see you Sunday then. One o’clock.” The woman hadn’t asked her grown daughter if she wanted to bring anyone with her.

It was just as well. Facing her family the way she needed wasn’t something she wanted to do with Carlton at her side. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

She hung up and handed him the phone.

“I’m proud of you.” He kissed her lips briefly as he set the cell on the bedside table. “That gives you four days to figure out what to say to them.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I’m not sure I want to tackle them yet. And besides, my aunt and uncle will be there.”

“All the more reason. Isn’t that your father’s brother?”

“Yes.”

“You said yourself those two were tight and you thought many of your father’s ideas were learned from his older brother.”

“Yeah.” She set her hands on top of the one he still had on her belly. “They have gone to the same church since before I was born. My aunt and uncle went there first and dragged my parents down the same path.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed her again. “Put it out of your mind for tonight. We’ll deal with it more before you go over there.” He nibbled a path to her ear.

“You aren’t mad I didn’t suggest bringing you with me?”

“No. Not at all.” His tongue landed on her earlobe, making her flinch. “I know this is something you have to do on your own. I’ll be here for moral support before and after.”

Chapter Fourteen

The next few days went smoothly, balancing work and play. If someone was following her, she tried to ignore it. Her imagination had gotten out of hand. Surely she was simply being paranoid. Staying in someone else’s house, waking up in a strange bed, assuming a new role that she found herself loving—it was enough to make anyone panicky. When would the other shoe drop? She’d never been this happy. And her fear of losing all this had gotten the best of her.

She spent her days at the office as one persona and her evenings at Carlton’s as another, entirely different persona. High-powered stress, number crunching, keeping customers happy took the first ten hours. After that she flipped a switch and let Carlton take charge.

It was amazing. Beyond her expectations. And she found herself staring at Carlton, wishing he could see how good they were together and take her on permanently. The man never insinuated any such thing, however. He looked at her like she hung the moon and the stars, but his words still spoke of this temporary arrangement.

Carlton was perfect in every way she could imagine. His quirks were few and far between. He was constantly freaky about her safety, but she tried to internalize every weird incident as his way of showing how much he cared rather than finding him to be controlling.

He demonstrated not an ounce of jealousy or lack of trust. He never mentioned a word about people looking at her or her eyeing them. He just seemed to genuinely worry about something happening to her. Obsessively at times.

If she admitted he was controlling, she wouldn’t be able to tolerate him. After living under the controlling hand of her father for most of her life, no man was going to control her now. It scared the fuck out of her that she even allowed herself to submit to someone. She’d struggled with that her entire adult life, worrying about her motivation. Had her father made her this way? Shouldn’t she fight against it, lift up her chin and take control of her own life?

Every time she considered leaving Carlton to go it alone, she couldn’t visualize a life without him. Damn him and his two weeks. Damn herself and her need to be controlled. The juxtaposition was stressful.

Add to that her paranoia and she was on pins and needles.

Every night when she left work, she watched her back. Every time she approached her car, she scanned it for evidence that someone had been there, left her a note again, tampered with her car in some way.

On Friday, she went out to lunch. As she reached her car, she came to a stop, her hands shaking as she eyed another fucking note on the windshield. After several deep breaths, she picked the corner up with two fingers and carefully set the envelope on the passenger seat. Lunch would have to wait. Enough was enough. She needed to go to the police.

Her heart pounded as she drove to the nearest station. A normal person would call her boyfriend and tell him what was happening. Was Carlton her boyfriend? Not hardly. And besides, the man would freak out and insist she no longer drive alone. Losing her independence to some stalker would send her over the edge. She couldn’t do it.

She wouldn’t. She inhaled deeply as she pulled in to the station, resolved to turn the problem over to the police and keep Carlton out of it.

Margaret entered the police station, spoke to a kind woman at the front desk, and then waited for only moments before an officer assisted her.

“Ma’am.” He shook her hand. “Officer Brantly. I understand you’ve received some threatening letters?”

“Yes, on my windshield. The first one I opened before realizing what it was. But this time, I didn’t touch more than the corner to set it in the car. It’s lying on the front seat. I drove straight here from my office.”

He smiled politely. “Good choice. Give me a sec to grab some gloves and I’ll follow you out to retrieve it.”

Less than a minute later, Officer Brantly was back at her side, ushering her to her car. He carefully picked up the note and slid it into a plastic bag. “Did you touch the windshield or the hood much?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“’Kay. I’m gonna send some guys out to see if they can pull any prints. Come on back to my office. I’ll take down some information.” On the way down a long hall to Brantly’s office, he stopped by another office and handed the note to someone else.

Brantly turned toward Margaret. “It’s a red Camry, right?”

“Yes.”

He turned back to the other man and asked him to dust for prints.

It took over an hour for Margaret to provide the officer with all the details of the first note and then the circumstances of the second. She called her boss to let him know she would be late returning.

Halfway through the conversation with Officer Brantly, a female cop stepped into his office and handed him a note. She left without saying a word.

Brantly read the note and handed it to Margaret. “Well, someone is threatening you. Does this make any sense?”

Margaret held her breath as she read the words.

Listen, bitch. I don’t think you understand. You need to straighten yourself out unless you want a repeat performance. Then again, it seems you like pain. So maybe fucking you up won’t do a bit of good
.

Margaret’s eyes teared up. She hated herself for not staying stronger, but she was suddenly overcome with emotions. Who the fuck was harassing her? It almost sounded like it could be the same people who’d attacked her the first time. But that was impossible. Why now? After all these years?

Brantly spoke again, gently. “I assume this means something to you?”

She nodded, but it took her several minutes to form words.

“Whatever it is, you need to tell us. Would you like me to call in a female officer?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m fine.” She sucked in a breath.

Brantly waited patiently. Finally, he spoke again. “Is someone hurting you? Do you know who would have left this note?”

She shook her head again. “No. Not a clue. And the creepy idea I have is so far-fetched it will sound ludicrous.”

“Go ahead. Anything you can add will help.”

“When I was fifteen, I was attacked by three men in an alley. It was a hate crime. I’m—I’m bisexual.” She swallowed through the admission. She’d never told anyone that outright.

Brantly didn’t flinch. “Well, that’s not a crime.” He smiled and leaned forward. “Did the cops find the men who did that to you?”

“No. I’m not sure what ever happened.” She lifted her gaze. “My parents… They…um…weren’t particularly supportive. They moved me to another town and never mentioned the incident again.”

He frowned. “Were they trying to help you move on?”

The sound she emitted was unrecognizable to her ears, like a deep, sardonic chuckle that made her shiver. “Hardly.” She lifted her gaze to the officer. “They weren’t supportive of my lifestyle. They were more likely to have hired the thugs themselves than track them down to exact justice.”

The second the words left her mouth, she gasped.

Brantly lifted an eyebrow. “Do you believe that?”

She inhaled sharply. “No. God, I hope not. Surely they aren’t that cruel. I’d been at a rave with my girlfriend. We’d been…making out, dancing, flirting. I assume someone at the rave followed us and took it upon themselves to make sure we knew they didn’t approve of our choices.”

Brantly paused for several seconds, thinking, his brow furrowed. “And you’ve never had another problem until now?”

“No. Never.” And then she shook her head. “Although I have felt like someone was following me for the last several weeks. I assumed I was being paranoid.”

“Even after receiving that first note?”

She glanced at her lap, wringing her fingers together. “I guess I was in denial. I’ve had…some life changes lately. I tend to get paranoid when I alter my routine. I hoped it was a case of mistaken identity or something. I didn’t figure there was anything you could have done about it after I’d opened the envelope and touched the paper myself. Stupid, really. I should have called nine-one-one.”

Brantly leaned on his elbows. “You could have. But you’re right about one thing. It’s damn difficult to track down someone who leaves you a note.” He hesitated. “Do you live with another woman?”

She shook her head for the millionth time. “No. In fact, the irony is that, for the first time, I’ve been staying with a man. That’s when this all started.”

Brantly drummed his fingers on the desk. “What do you think this asshole means when he says you like pain?”

Margaret swallowed and met the officer’s gaze head-on. She needed to be totally upfront with him. “I’m a member of a BDSM club. If that person is following me, they would know that.”

Brantly nodded. “Okay.” He didn’t judge her. Nothing on his face indicated she was saying anything out of the ordinary. Thank God. “Well, I think I have all I can go on for now.” He handed her a card. “I’m going to contact the station that handled your case twelve years ago and see what kind of information they gathered at the time. Do you think you could ask your parents for more details? Maybe they knew things they didn’t tell you at the time. You were so young.”

Margaret stared at him. “Maybe,” she mumbled. “I’ll try.” She couldn’t imagine bringing up that can of worms with her parents, but then again, she had a shit ton of baggage to clear with them. Maybe this was the nudge she needed to confront them once and for all, for better or for worse.

Brantly stood. “Call me if you come up with even the tiniest piece of information that might help. And I’ll be in touch with you as soon as we process the fingerprints. But I’ll warn you, the chances of finding a print on that paper is slim.”

She nodded as she stood also. Her legs felt like lead. “Okay. Thank you. I realize it’s a long shot, but I also knew I needed to file a report.”

“You’re absolutely right. Always call us. That’s what we’re here for.” He rounded the desk and opened the door. “No detail is too small. Unfortunately there isn’t a lot we can do without more information. But if I were you, I would take care to avoid being alone. Don’t go anywhere at night by yourself. Maybe someone at work could walk you to and from your car?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” No way in hell was she going anywhere alone now. And that pissed her off more than anything. She hated having to look over her shoulder all the time. She hated that her irrational fear was perhaps not so irrational. She hated to think someone was indeed following her and knew where she went at all times.

Fuck. Her fingers shook as she left the station and headed to the parking lot. Officer Brantly saw her to her car and shut the door for her.

She dropped the keys as she lifted them to put them in the ignition. After she picked them up from the floorboard, she locked the doors and sat for a few minutes, trying to gather the strength to drive.

She had to get back to work. She needed to think. What the hell was Carlton going to say? He was going to kill her for not calling him immediately.

Or else, keep this to yourself for now
. There was no need to tell him, really. There wasn’t a thing he could do but worry. And he already did enough of that. There was also no reason to burden him with her problem when he didn’t plan to stick around in her life more than one more week.

God, how she wanted him to keep her. With each passing day she grew more attached to him. She secretly hoped she could slowly convince him that
he
was the Dom for her and not set her free to find someone else. As paranoid as Carlton was, finding out she had a stalker wouldn’t help her case. He’d probably wash his hands of her and not look back.

Nope. She would keep this to herself. On the off chance Officer Brantly called with any details, she would discreetly handle it when she was alone. Resolved, she headed back to the office to finish the day.

Carlton sat in his usual pew and stared at the row of candles flickering to his left. He imagined each one reaching toward the heavens, paying homage to whomever each was intended, including his.

When his eyes began to play tricks on him from looking at the flickering lights for so long, he switched his gaze to the front of the church.

Please, Karen. Help me do the right thing. It’s been so long. I know you would be disappointed in me for carrying a torch for you for so many years. I know this isn’t what you would want for me.

But it’s hard. I’m scared. You hurt me so badly. I never want to feel that sort of pain again.

Maggie. She’s so much like you, and yet so different at the same time. I wonder if you would like her if you met her. She’s smart and feisty and…alive. So alive. Vibrant. She doesn’t take risks like you.

He smiled. He felt a calm wash over him for the first time in years. Forever. He’d never felt this relaxed when visiting Karen.

Maggie isn’t you. She’s her own person. I’m not sure why I ever thought she was so similar to you. Even her resemblance is fading as I get to know her better.

She would kill me if she ever found out what attracted me to her in the first place. Who wants to know that her boyfriend carries a torch for his first girlfriend?

Boyfriend
. He leaned back, smiling.
Boyfriend
was a term he hadn’t used for twelve years. Never intended to again in this lifetime.

Until Maggie. God, he wanted her. Could he keep her?

And, hell, he didn’t know if she would agree. He’d never once told her the idea was even on the table. Until today, he hadn’t entertained the thought himself. How could he have told her?

I’m done coming here, Karen. I need to move on. I’m at peace finally. And I know that would make you smile. I’m sorry, my love. I’m sorry for not being there that night. I’m sorry for not insisting you stop taking risks. I’m sorry you left me here to fend for myself in this life. But most of all, I’m sorry for spending so many years with regret and anger toward myself and you.

Carlton stood, feeling stronger than he had in years.

Goodbye, Karen. Rest in peace
.

He left the chapel, his chin up, a renewed sense of life following him to his car.

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