Dangerously Bound (5 page)

She grabbed a pen from her purse and scribbled her email on a napkin, pushed it toward
Mick.

“Good girl,” he said quietly, and despite the cocky smirk on his face, those words
went through her like a magic wand dusting her with pure pleasure. He hadn’t taken
his eyes off her for a moment.

“So,” Jamie asked, “is there anything else you two need me here for?”

“No,” they said simultaneously.

“Okay, then.” Jamie rubbed his hands together. “Looks like my job here is done—for
the moment. You are still under my protection, Allie. Tell me if you need anything.
Anything
.” He stood up. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to get to know each other again. Don’t
stay out too late, kids.”

Mick glanced up at him with a growl. Jamie ignored him and leaned down to plant a
soft kiss on Allie’s head.

“Thank you, Jamie.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. See you, Mick.”

Once he’d left and it was just the two of them, the space between them suddenly seemed
too small. Allie shifted in her chair.

“I can’t believe you set me up like this, Allie,” Mick said, his
tone low and smoky. A little threatening. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Mick. Partly because I’ve been gone for so
long and I’ve been through changes, grown up. And partly because you refuse to see
me for who I am. You always have.”

He watched her for several long moments. “You know this is not going to end any differently
than it did before,” he said finally, his tone low.

“Meaning you think
you
haven’t grown or changed in all these years, Mick?”

“Sure I have. But I can’t change history—
my
history. At the core I’m still who I’ve always been. Oh, I’m not the troublemaker
I was in my teens, but I’m not any better for you now than I was when we were in high
school, or when we were in college. Not any better for a girl like you than I’ve been
this whole time. Some things I can’t do anything about, Allie.”

“That’s a cop-out. And what do you mean by
a girl like me
?”

“It’s the simple truth. And you know what I mean.”

“It’s crap, Mick—a story you tell yourself. One you’ve told me too many times. And
I don’t agree.”

“Then we’ll have to agree to disagree, unless you want this to stop now.”

She bit her lip. “I still disagree,” she said stubbornly.

“One thing that’s come with the years is that I know exactly who
I am, Allie,” he insisted.

“And who’s that?” she asked, really wanting to know with a sudden urgency that made
her stomach knot up. “Because maybe it’s about time you told me, since you seem to
think I’m so delusional when it comes to you.”

“That’s a pretty big question.”

“Then I’ll expect a big answer.”

He stared at her for several seconds. “At some point you’ll have it, maybe. Maybe.”

“Ah, you want to remain the enigmatic Dominant. A man of mystery.”

He shrugged, his massive shoulders a ripple of muscle beneath his T-shirt. “Maybe
I don’t feel like talking about it here.”

“We can go back to your place and talk,” she said, angling her chin.

“Allesandra LeClair, you just flirted with me.”

“Maybe I did.” She blinked, bit her lip.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Am I?”

He laughed. “Your ‘coy’ isn’t very good—you might need some practice, princess.”

Princess.

He hadn’t called her that since high school. A warm shiver went through her.

“Then maybe I’ll practice on you.”

“You’ve developed a bratty side, you know that?”

She nodded, grinning. “I think you like it.”

“And I think it’s nothing throwing you over my knee and spanking the hell out of you
won’t cure.”

“Yes, please,” she said quietly.

He stared at her for several moments, his gray eyes going dark. “Touché.”

They sat quietly staring each other down again, but some of the ice had melted.

Allie leaned toward him, her elbows resting on the table. “So, you’ll email me?”

“I will. And I’ll look over your list, shoot you over any questions I have, send you
my list. Then, because you and Jamie are
crazy and apparently so am I for agreeing to this, we’ll start the real negotiations.
Check your email tonight.” He stood, towering over her. “Don’t think because we’re
all old friends that I’ll go easy on you, Allie. That’s not who I am.”

“That’s good. Because asking a Dom to go easy on me is not who I am, either.”

“We’ll see about that.” He paused, his gaze raking her face, her upper body, before
coming back to meet hers. “Meanwhile, learn to drop the attitude. Don’t make me show
you how.”

She nodded without a word. He cracked the edge of a smile, tossed a ten-dollar bill
onto the table, turned and headed for the door.

Allie watched him walk out of the café—actually, saunter was more like it—his shoulders
so broad, the way his muscles in his back worked beneath the thin cotton T-shirt.
His superb ass.

She realized she was trembling all over, just a small shiver beneath the surface of
her skin. Mick was one fine-looking man—all sharp angles and rough exterior, with
those glossy eyes, his lush mouth made even more enticing by his evil-looking goatee.
And his hair—those wild, loose black curls.

She remembered the way his hair felt in her hands . . .

She let out a small groan.

She was turning into a small puddle right there in the café. If she’d been at home,
she would have already dug out her toys.

“God . . .” she murmured under her breath, the heat of desire scorching her system,
lighting her up with need.

She had to get home. Had to get into bed with every damn toy she owned and try to
work a little of Mick out of her body. Not that it
would
work, of course. But she had to do something until she got the email from him that
would tell her what he wanted her to do.

Hell, she simply had to do
something
.

She dropped another five on the table, grabbed her purse and left, walking out on
shaky legs. She wasn’t sure she could wait until she got home to ease the insistent
ache between her thighs.

She waved down a cab as soon as she reached the street. She couldn’t wait for the
ambling streetcar today—she was in a hurry. Because if she didn’t get home, get into
bed with her vibrator as soon as possible, she was going to explode.

That’s what he did to her. Always had. Probably always would. She had no idea how
much more intense, how out of control her desire would be when he was touching her
in the way she’d been craving for years. Mick—with his hands rough on her, tying her
up, spanking her, paddling her . . .
touching
her.

She put a hand over her mouth to quiet the moan that escaped.

What had she just gotten herself into? This could be her fondest fantasy come to life.
Or it could be that Mick Reid was the one man who was going to push her past her limits,
make her—for once—truly lose control.

She was very much afraid of the outcome. She could barely stand the wait before they
could begin.

*   *   *

S
HE WAS EXHAUSTED
by the workout she’d given herself with her toys. Four orgasms later Allie got up,
wrapped herself in her pink cotton robe and made herself a cup of coffee in the cottage’s
small kitchen. Her legs felt like rubber, and she knew she couldn’t take anymore.
But somehow her need was still left unsatisfied.

Somehow . . . because it’s not with Mick.

She’d always known that was an issue for her, no matter her toys, her lovers, the
men who dominated her at the clubs. But after seeing him that whole thing had shifted
into high gear.

The sun was starting to go down, the light turning misty,
touched with shades of pink and orange as it filtered through the sheer curtains above
the sink.

Tonight.

Time to check her email.

She sat at the round kitchen table, her heart starting to pound as she opened her
laptop. His message was the first one to pop up. She clicked it, saw the words
It begins here
in the subject line . . . and somehow her elbow hit her coffee mug, spilling the
hot liquid onto the table.

“Shit!”

She managed to snatch her laptop and whisk it out of harm’s way before she grabbed
the paper towels and wiped up the mess.

“Just breathe, Allie,” she muttered.

She slowly inhaled the soft New Orleans air, then let it out. She moved the laptop
back onto the table, sat down and started to read Mick’s email.

Allie-

You and I have known each other a long time. But you’re right—we don’t really know
each other anymore, and maybe what we thought we knew was all wrong. It starts here,
then—us getting to know each other so we can play safely together, and in a way that
satisfies our needs.

I’ve seen your list of kinks and desires, your limits, your maybes. Here is mine.
I am of the mind that I don’t need to have every one of my kinks met with any one
given playmate. This list is a fairly complete itemization of what interests me. If
there is something on it you haven’t considered before but that is a limit for you,
let me know. I’ve already told you what I absolutely require—that you always use your
safe words if you
feel you need to. That you’re honest with me about what’s working for you and what
isn’t. That you are completely transparent about any health issues or anything that
might act as a negative emotional trigger. Standard stuff for those of us who operate
in the Safe, Sane and Consensual community, which it seems you know.

My kinks:

Flogging, paddling, spanking, abrasion play, hot wax, clips/clamps/clothespins, handcuffs,
seeing a woman in high heels and lingerie, tearing the lingerie to shreds as I take
it off you—probably with my teeth. Did I mention I love biting? Then there’s mind-fuck,
pinching, posture collars, corsets, canes, vampire gloves, tickling, vibrators, hair
pulling, ice cubes, single-tail whips, and maybe most of all, rope bondage/kinbaku/shibari.

There are some variations, of course, and new kinks that develop along the way, but
this is my basic list.

Allie took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing pulse, the heat spreading like
wildfire through her system. Her sex was a hot pool of desire. She crossed her legs,
found that only made it worse, and uncrossed them.

“Jesus,” she murmured.

It was everything she loved or wanted to try. With Mick attached.

“Tearing the lingerie to shreds as I take it off you . . .”

She might have to climax again right there!

She shook her head.

Pull it together, girl.

She focused once more on her computer screen.

Tell me now if you’re still in this. You are welcome at any time to withdraw, of course,
but I want to hear from you now that we
are on the same page about the things we want to do together. That having seen my
list (which I noticed is very similar to yours), you’re still interested.

You know I have my doubts about this. Not that you’re dragging me kicking and screaming
into playing you (not that anyone could, something you would do well to remember),
but I have to tell you up front that this is a bit of a mind-fuck for me, and I am
damn well not used to it.

I am always in control when I play. I can promise you I will maintain that control
with you. Glory in it or fight it, it doesn’t matter. I’m simply telling you how it
will be.

I want you to take a little time before you reply. Think it through. Then write back
and tell me what your answer is. And again, contact me with any questions or concerns.

Mick

She knew exactly what her answer was. Her body was already screaming it. She typed
one word.
Yes.

She tapped her nails against the keyboard, waiting to see if he was online. If he
would email her back. Several moments passed. She picked up the new cup of coffee
she’d poured herself, and sipped. It was cold. How long had she sat there reading
and rereading his email?

“Okay,” she said to the empty kitchen, “I can’t sit here all night waiting for his
answer.”

She stood and pulled her X-Acto knife from a drawer and moved into the dimly lit living
room. There were boxes everywhere and the scent of old furniture, tinged with a bit
of lilac that was her aunt Joséphine’s favorite scent, apparently—it was everywhere
in the house. She chose a cardboard box marked
kitchen
, sliced it open and started to pull something wrapped
in white paper out of it. Her laptop pinged. She barely remembered to retract the
blade of the knife as she hurried back into the kitchen.

Her laptop sat like some glowing temptress on the table. She set the knife down and
flexed her fingers before sitting down again and clicking the email open.

A brief but succinct reply. Which, under other circumstances, I might approve of.
Here, however, you and I need to communicate.

When we play I will instruct you to answer any questions in the briefest way possible
so I don’t inadvertently pull you out of subspace (and trust me, I will take you there).
Right now I view this as part of the fight in you. I don’t mind the struggle because
I have absolute confidence that I will win. Keep in mind, though, that even though
we both see pain as pleasure, it can also be punishment.

We meet this Friday at 8:00 in the evening for your debut at The Bastille. I will
pick you up. I will email you again with instructions as to how you should dress for
me.

Mick

Dress. For
him
.

She exhaled a long, hot breath, full of a wild wanting and the innate stubbornness
that yearned to argue the point. But this was Mick. How much could she really argue?
She’d wanted him—only him—since she was sixteen years old. The only question was,
was she truly ready for him?