Lora_Leigh_Bound_Hearts_2_Submission[1].pdf (7 page)

He closed his eyes. Ella breathed in deeply in relief before she rushed from the

room.

* * * * *

“It’s about time. What were you doing in there, anyway?” Charlie turned from the

refrigerator as Ella moved into the kitchen.

Charlie was nearly five years younger than Ella, slim and sophisticated, dressed in

a gray silk sheath with matching heels. Her long, black hair fell to the middle of her

shoulders like a fall of midnight silk, contrasting to the perfect peaches and cream

perfection of her bare shoulders.

“I was asleep.” Ella went to the coffee pot and put on a fresh brew of coffee.

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“You’re never asleep before midnight, Ella,” Charlie scoffed. “Hell, you’re still up at

one and two in the morning. I know, I can see your bedroom light from my house.”

Ella lowered her head. She was unaware Charlie kept such a close eye on her. It was

disconcerting.

“Sometimes I take a nap.” She shrugged, flipping the switch and listening to the

machine begin to hum as it began to heat the water. “It’s no big deal.”

She turned back to her friend, aware of Charlie’s steady regard as she took a slice of

cheesecake from the refrigerator and moved to the table. She collected a fork from the

cabinet as she passed by it, but still, she watched Ella.

“What’s going on? You’re acting strange.” Charlie was the most perceptive of her

friends, but Ella didn’t like how easily even she was reading her.

“Nothing’s going on.” Ella moved two cups from the cabinet and set cream and

sugar on the table. “I was just tired, Charlie.”

She was just damned uncomfortable now. Her thighs were weak and tender, her

breasts marked by James’ mouth, her body longing to return to him. She usually

enjoyed her friend’s visits, and looked forward to them. Charlie was usually easy going

and filled with laughter, but now she just wanted her to leave. Ella wanted to return to

James, his heat, his hard body.

“Ella, you aren’t acting right, honey.” Charlie watched her with sharp, deep blue

eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Ella shook her head as she poured the coffee. She had to fight the

trembling of her hands, and the knowledge that everything was suddenly out of

control. And not just sexually.

She set Charlie’s coffee cup in front of her, then moved to the other side of the table

and sat down. As she looked up, her stomach dropped. Charlie was staring across the

room in complete shock. Ella’s head turned slowly, knowing what held her rapt

attention. Her brows snapped into a frown as James walked barefoot through the

kitchen.

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“You didn’t tell me you were fixing coffee, baby.” He wore blue jeans and nothing

else. And those damned jeans. The top button was loose, and the waistband rode low

on his tight abdomen. Right above it was a strawberry love bite. She remembered

marking him, and now her face flamed as she realized her friend couldn’t miss it.

“Dear God,” Charlie breathed as she obviously fought for breath, her gaze swinging

from Ella to James.

Ella could only cover her face as James poured his coffee, dropped a quick kiss to

the top of her head and said, “I’ll finish up some of that paperwork you dragged me

away from earlier while you talk to your friend.”

She peeked through her fingers as he ambled away. The jeans molded his buttocks

to perfection, and Charlie wasn’t missing a second of the view as he left the room.

As he disappeared through the doorway, Charlie turned to her, her eyes wide, her

expression shocked.

“James Wyman,” she breathed out in shock. “Oh my God! Ella, you fucked James

Wyman? Or is it Jesse?” she squeaked in fear, well aware of Tess’s interlude with Jesse

Wyman and Cole.

Ella squirmed in her chair. No, she thought, he had fucked her, thoroughly. And

more than once. She sighed tiredly. Everyone would know it now.

“It’s not Jesse,” she groaned, pushing her fingers restlessly through her hair. “You

should know better than that.”

“James!” she squealed.

“Dammit, Charlie, shut up,” she shushed her frantically. “He’ll hear you.”

“Ella, do you have any idea what you’re doing? What you’re getting into?” Her

voice lowered. “Honey, he and Jesse have shared their women more than once…”

“Not me.” Ella came out of her chair, her hands trembling violently as she shoved

them into the pockets of her robe.

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“Maybe not with Jesse, but Ella, James and Jesse aren’t the only members of their

pack, hon. I could name you half a dozen now.”

She shook her head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Charlie sat back in her chair, her mouth falling open in surprise. “You haven’t

heard? They’re called the Trojans, babe. Because of their dominance, and their sharing.

They like submissives, Ella. You aren’t a submissive. Are you?”

“You know I’m not,” Ella bit out. But she wondered. What James had done to her

that night, the dark promises he had made to her as he buried his cock inside her over

and over again, threatened her belief that she wasn’t.

“Ella, those men, they don’t mess with women who aren’t submissive. Women who

won’t give them that ultimate commitment.” Charlie came to her feet, facing her in

concern. “You ran from Jase because of his demands. James will be worse.”

Ella shook her head. “I’m in control,” she whispered. “He won’t do it if I don’t want

it.”

“And when he leaves because you can’t do it?” she whispered fiercely. “Dammit,

Ella, haven’t you been hurt enough?”

“It’s my choice, Charlie.” She raised her head in determination. “My choice. No

matter what happens.”

Charlie watched her silently.

“He’s the one,” she finally said slowly. “The one that came in while Jase had you

tied down. The reason you divorced him and moved so damned far away for so long.”

Ella turned away, her lips opening as she fought to drag in more air, to stem the

panic rising in her chest.

“Stop, Charlie,” she whispered, turning back to her as she stared at her friend

pleadingly. “Please, let it go.”

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“My God. You’re in love with him.” Charlie shook her head, amazement shaping

her expression. “Ella, he’s the one. The reason you ran and turned into a bitter old nun.

My God. He’s younger than you are.”

“Six years…”

“He shares his women,” she pointed out again.

“I don’t have to agree…”

“But you will to keep him.” Charlie was angry now. Her voice throbbed with it, her

face flushing with it. “You will, Ella. Because you love him.”

“Enough.” Her hand sliced through the air as her soul trembled with the

knowledge. “This isn’t any of your business, Charlie…”

“The hell it isn’t.” Charlie’s voice rose with her anger. “Dammit, Ella, I watched you

destroy yourself after that divorce. Turning into a bitter old woman before your time

because of that bastard…”

“Lower your voice.” Ella was shaking with her own anger now. “And remember,

Charlie, I didn’t ask you for your opinion then or now.”

“Like you have to ask for it,” Charlie snorted is disgust. “Really, Ella. It’s voluntary,

darling.” The sarcasm was a clear sign that Charlie was rapidly losing her temper. Ella

wasn’t far behind.

“Everything okay?” Ella’s head swung around to the doorway and she wanted to

groan in dismay when she saw James standing there, watching them mockingly.

“Don’t you know how to dress?” she bit out in irritation, seeing all the smooth,

perfect muscle that she knew Charlie was eating up with her eyes.

He arched a dark brow questioningly. “I thought all good little boy toys went

around half naked? Don’t tell me you’re firing me after only a few hours on the job.”

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It was well after midnight before Charlie left. After James’ mocking statement and

his declaration that he was going to bed to let them discuss him in peace, Ella broke out

the wine. Some nights, there was nothing you could do but get a shade tipsy and

remember all the reasons why you didn’t want a man in your life. Charlie was eager to

go along with her. Evidently all that smooth male muscle and blatant sexuality had

been too much for her to deal with at one time as well.

Finally, her friend weaved her way to the limo waiting on her, thanked her aging

driver nicely as he opened the door for her, and crawled into the vehicle. Ella herself felt

she was walking reasonably straight until she closed the door and turned around. She

proceeded to walk into the embroidered chair that sat off to the side. She frowned down

at it in irritation before backing up and trying again.

She needed to go to bed. But James was in her bed. She stopped as she headed

through the kitchen. Of course James was in her bed. That was where he belonged, she

decided with a sharp, rather jerky nod before squaring her shoulders and heading to

the room.

He was waiting on her. How had she known he would still be awake and waiting

on her? His expression was cool, arrogant, as she removed her robe and started to lie

down.

“The gown.” His voice was dark, foreboding.

Ella stopped, staring at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?” she asked him haughtily. “I sleep in my gown.”

“Take it off or I’ll tear it off.” There was no mercy in his voice, no change in his

expression.

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Ella snorted. “Some boy toy you are, James. I might have to fire you after all. You

are supposed to obey me, not the other way around.”

“Take the gown off. I won’t tell you again, Ella.” Her insides trembled at the dark

brew of anger and desire that throbbed in his voice.

She did as he said, suddenly too nervous not to. She watched him helplessly as the

silk gown slithered to the floor, leaving her bare before his eyes. What did he see, she

wondered? She was older; her body wasn’t as toned, as pretty as it had been ten years

before. She knew all her problem areas, had stared at them in the mirror more times

than she could count.

He pulled the blankets back then and patted the bed beside him. Watching him

warily, she got into bed, lying on her back as he stopped her from turning on her side.

His big hand moved to her stomach, caressing the flesh there as her breath caught in her

throat.

“I won’t be regulated to the bedroom, hidden, a secret you keep from everyone,” he

warned her coldly as he stared down at her. “Do you understand me, Ella?”

“What do you want from me?” She shook her head, her brain clouded with the

alcohol, her emotions sensitized from her friend’s warnings, and James’ demands.

“Why are you even here, James? In my bed. My life,” she sighed wearily.

“You have to figure that one out on your own,” he growled, his hand moving until

he could brush back the lingering strands of hair that clung to her cheek, her neck. “You

should have already figured it out, Ella, but you refuse to look beyond your own fears. I

won’t allow that to continue.”

His eyes softened only marginally as she stared up at him. In the soft light of the

lamp, his features were shadowed, savage yet softening with tenderness. She lifted her

hand until she could touch the roughness of his beard-shadowed jaw, loving the

warmth and roughness of his flesh.

“I dreamed of you,” she whispered bleakly. “For so many years, I dreamed of you,

James. You’ll break my heart if I let you. I can’t let you.”

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His gaze became shuttered. “Go to sleep, Ella. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He moved then, turning out the light before lying down beside her, wrapping his

arms around her as he pulled her close. Ella stared up at the dark ceiling, feeling the

warmth and vitality of his body as he held her. Feeling the hard length of his cock

against her thigh.

She breathed out regretfully. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone, James.”

“Go to sleep, Ella,” he warned, his voice soft yet commanding. “You don’t want to

push me much further tonight.”

“But I will, James.” She shook her head, the wistful sadness inside her heart too

much to bear. “I was used to being alone.”

Silence met her words. He wasn’t asleep; his body was too tight, too tense for her to

believe that. His anger thickened the air in the room, though, and she realized she

didn’t really want him angry. Keeping him angry was to keep him at arm’s length, a

safe distance from making her body torment her with its needs. But he was close now,

he had already taken her, more than once, and the little aches in her body proved that.