Dangerously Bound (11 page)

“Good night, Mick.”

She waited but he didn’t budge.

“I’m not leaving until you’re safely inside.”

“Oh. Oh.”

She made a useless fluttering motion with her hand, realized what she was doing and
turned away from him, went into the house and shut the door behind her. She leaned
her back against it, her gaze on the plaster ceiling as she let out a long, sighing
breath.

Jesus, this man! How could he have come so close and then
not
kissed her? Pure torture, and not even the kinky kind, she felt certain. But it was
all her own damn fault. Her body was buzzing with need, but her mind was buzzing even
harder. With doubt. Guilt. Questions.

She would do as she’d promised—for herself as well as for him. She moved from the
entry hall into the living room and emptied her small purse onto the low coffee table,
found her cell phone and dialed Marie Dawn.

“Allie? What’s up,
chérie
?”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s late.”

“Never a problem, honey. Talk to me.”

“We went to the club, Mick and I. And at first everything was just flowing. It was
too perfect being there with him. Knowing it was finally happening. But Marie Dawn,
I fucked up.”
Her breath caught, and she curled her free hand into a fist, letting the nails bite
into her palm. “I shouldn’t have tried to con him into this.”

“Well, there may have been other ways to go about it, but we both know Mick Reid is
one of the most stubborn human beings on the planet, so really, this may have been
the only way.”

“That was my thought, too. That was how I justified it.” She paused, swallowed the
tears that burned in her throat. “He was so damn nice about it, apologetic, but the
scene was ruined.”

“Allie, you can’t blame yourself for this. He started it years ago—you’re just trying
to repair the damage. So, the scene went wrong. So what? That doesn’t mean you two
never talk again, or maybe even try the club again. Does it?” Marie Dawn asked.

“No. I mean, there’s nothing in the kink handbook that says we can’t try again, if
we want. But . . . this whole thing obviously messed with his head, and I don’t think
he’ll want to.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“I don’t know.” She moved to the lace curtains at the window, let the streetlights
outside blur into a wash of pale amber against the tears pooling in her eyes. “He
told me that being there with me tonight brought up how he used to feel, and I
think
he was talking about our relationship, back when things were good between us. I think.
I just don’t know.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to come over? Because I can come right now. You just
say the word.”

“No, I’m okay.” She bit her lip. “I’ll be okay. I’m confused and . . . I’ll be fine.
I just need to get some sleep and try to work this out in my head. He did make me
promise to call him tomorrow.”

“Good. It’ll give you a chance to talk. You do want to talk to him?”

“Yes. Of course I do. I just couldn’t talk to him tonight. I couldn’t stand to face
him.”

“Go easy on yourself, honey,” Marie Dawn said quietly. “Love is always hard enough.”

“I do love him,” she said, her voice low, a little strangled. “Wow. I haven’t said
those words out loud since I was a teenager.” Awe made goose bumps rise on her flesh.

“Maybe it’s about time.”

“Maybe. I just don’t think . . . I don’t think Mick will ever love me back.”

“Oh, he loves you. He has for years. Give him a chance to figure it out. And Allie?
Personally I think forcing him into facing this is the best way—probably the only
way—to get through to him. Don’t you give up. You’re stronger than that.”

Allie smiled. “What would I do without you to mama me?”

“You know I love you,
chérie
.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“You sure you don’t need me? Neal wouldn’t even know I was gone. I can slide into
my slippers and be there in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m okay. Really. You stay home with your husband.”

“Check in with me tomorrow.”

“I will.”

They hung up and she found herself feeling marginally better. Amazing how the support
of a good friend could hold her up when she was down. How had she lived so far from
Marie Dawn all these years? But she was back in New Orleans—to stay, it seemed. She
didn’t have to be separated from her best friend anymore. Or her family, whom she
loved dearly, even if they could be a little crazy and overwhelming sometimes.

Or from Mick, maybe.

She took in a breath, exhaled and pulled in another. There
was the familiar scent of New Orleans—old wood and plaster, dust on lace curtains,
and always the scent of flowers that seemed to come from everywhere.

If she shook her head so that her hair fell against her cheek, she could still smell
Mick’s scent on her.

Her pulse raced. Her body heated.

No matter how emotional she might be, that primal need for him was always lurking,
waiting for one small thought to bloom into sharply burning desire.

His hands had been on her tonight—all over her body.

She had been naked and under his command.

A soft moan escaped her lips. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand as
if it would erase the need for him.

Mick.

She shook her head as she moved down the hall into the bathroom, stripped out of her
clothes as she ran the hot water in the shower, turning the temperature down before
she stepped in.

She leaned into the tiles, cool against her back, closed her eyes and remembered.

His dark brows drawn in concentration as he leaned over her. The slide of rope on
naked flesh. The scent of him filling her lungs.

She remembered the rope slipping between her thighs, pressing hard between the lips
of her sex, and reached down to press there with her fingers.

“Oh . . .”

It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

She pulled the shower sprayer down and held it so the water hit her clitoris, groaning
at the pressure. Parting her thighs, she moved the hard spray of water closer and
imagined it was Mick’s mouth on her. Teasing, licking, sucking. Pulling that sensitive
nub of flesh into his mouth, running his tongue over the tip.

In moments she was on the edge of climax, her clit pulsing, her legs shaking.

“Mick . . . I’m coming.” She gasped as the first shock wave hit her. “For you . . .
Oh!”

She shivered as pleasure rolled through her, wave after wave. Behind her closed eyes
was his face. His scent. His air of command.

Mick.

Always.

She leaned harder into the tiles, panting, dizzy with a need still unsated.

It would always be Mick that she needed. She didn’t know how
not
to need him. She didn’t know how to tame the raging desire for him without
him
being the one to tame her.

She shook her head. She had to make a decision: Was she going to pursue Mick, or wasn’t
she? What was fair to him? Could she live with herself if she didn’t push for time
with him? Could she live with herself if she did and they failed as miserably as they
had tonight?

She rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, quickly dried her skin and her hair
with a towel. She needed to climb into bed and not think anymore. She’d turn on one
of her travel shows and lose herself in whatever part of the world was being explored.
It was how she’d always dealt with stress, for as long as she could remember.

She climbed naked into the big four-poster bed that had been in the house when she’d
arrived. It was a beautiful piece, probably French, and the first thing she’d done
when she’d arrived in town was to replace the mattress and buy a dusky lilac duvet
and piles of pillows in lilac and white. The bed was too New Orleans—she couldn’t
help but make it romantic and plush.

The sheets were cool against her skin as she settled in, plumping the pillows behind
her head. She grabbed the remote from
the bedside table, turned off the lamp and flicked on the television.

She found a show exploring Tahiti, and let the beauty of the turquoise water and the
narrator’s smooth voice soothe her until she was too sleepy to pay attention any longer.
She turned the sound off and rolled onto her side to stare unseeing at the night sky
through the window. She didn’t see the moon, half-obscured by cloud. She didn’t see
the stars shining with their pale light. All she saw was Mick’s face. She slept, and
dreamed of him through the night.

*   *   *

M
ORNING CAME TOO
early. Allie stretched, testing her muscles for any stiffness after being bound the
night before, but it had been over too fast to cause any lingering effects. Not to
her body, anyway.

She sat up and flipped back the covers, got out of bed and slipped her robe over her
shoulders, pretending she wasn’t already full of anxiety. Was it too early to contact
Mick? Did she even know what she wanted to say to him?

A glance at the clock told her it was eight thirty, and if she knew Mick—and she still
did—he was probably already up and had been to the gym.

“What the hell,” she muttered, finding her phone in the living room and dialing him.

It rang, then went to voice mail.

“Mick, hi, it’s me. Allie. Um . . . I was supposed to call, so I’m calling, but maybe
you’re not up yet. I’m sorry if I woke you. I just . . . I’m checking in. Call me
back when you can. Okay. Bye.”

She hit the End Call button and swore.

“Way to sound like a complete idiot,” she muttered.

She rubbed her eyes. Why hadn’t she at least had some coffee first so she could manage
to make sense?

Tucking her phone into the pocket of her robe, she moved into the kitchen to get coffee
started. Her cell phone rang.

Mick.

Her stomach knotted, her pulse fluttering.

Just breathe.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Allie.”

“Oh, hi.”

“Sorry I missed you. I was just getting out of the shower.”

Mick with hot water pouring over his muscular body . . .

She bit back a moan.

“I’m glad I didn’t wake you up.”

“Already went out for a run this morning.”

She had to smile to herself.

“So, how are you doing?” he asked. “Did you get some sleep?”

“Some, yes. And I feel okay. No sore spots.”

“What about the rest? Are you still sorry you got me to play you?”

“I’m only sorry you didn’t kiss me,” she said before she could stop herself.

There was a long pause. Then he said, “Allie,” in a low voice.

She ran her fingers through her hair, catching the tangles. “I know, I know. And that’s
not entirely true. I’m sorry about the tears. The drama.”

“I told you last night that wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t want to argue with you, Mick.”

“Good, then don’t. Just do as I say.”

“What?”

But the sudden authority in his tone was already making her bones melt.

“I thought about this a lot last night after I took you home, and more this morning.
The way I see it, we owe it to each other to move ahead with the plan.
I
owe it to you.”

“To move ahead in what way, exactly? To do a scene at the club? You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t argue with me, Allie.”

She walked across the small kitchen, rested her back against the old pink tile at
the edge of the sink. She didn’t know what to do, whether to argue or to let him take
the lead. She wanted to be with him so badly it hurt. But what was he offering her
other than another night of play, the opportunity to set things right in that arena?

“Mick, if this is just you trying to live up to your word as a Dominant, then . . .
I don’t know if I can do that. Just have one more scene with you, try to make it a
good one, then . . . I don’t know.”

There was a long beat. She could hear him breathing on the other end of the phone.
“I don’t know, either, to be honest. And I have to tell you I topped out last night
for the first time—that’s why I had to stop the scene. Don’t try to take the blame
for it—it happens sometimes. You were doing beautifully. But last night started something,
and I think we have to see it through. I don’t know where to, ultimately. But it’s
you and me, Allie. We’re not just two people who met at the club and decided to take
each other out for a spin. It can’t ever be that for us. Last night showed me that.
Topping out showed me that. Part of it was the reality of being at the club with you.
To be honest, it stunned me a little, which I didn’t realize until this morning. To
know that you really are a part of the kink world—the sweet
Allie I’ve known since we were kids. I have to wrap my head around that. But yeah,
play for us can never be a casual thing. So if we’re going there at all, we have to
be aware of that.”

“You’re right. But Mick . . . do we really try to do this? Because as you said, it’s
us
. And I’m still not sure that me pushing things wasn’t a huge mistake.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s time we figure out once and for all if
we’re
a mistake.”

Tears formed behind her closed eyes. Could she take it if they got any closer, only
to find out they’d crash and burn?

“Allie?”

“I’m thinking,” she said.

“Don’t think. That gets us both into trouble every time, doesn’t it?”

“Can you tell me this isn’t about you having something to prove, Mick? To me? To yourself?”

“It’s always about trying to prove something to myself,” he said gruffly.

“But if that’s all it is—”

“It’s not.”

She exhaled, bit her lip. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes. Okay.”

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” he asked.

“I just said okay, Mick.”

He let out a small laugh. “Just kind of hard to believe.”

She laughed then, too. “I know.”

“The minute I get you back in that club I’ll find a way to curb your tendency to argue,
Allie girl.”