Still (25 page)

“Well, in your mind whatever sets you off feels real, right? Even though your logical mind knows it’s bullshit, it doesn’t matter because some part of your brain tells you it is real.”

He gripped his hands into fists, fighting off unwanted memories. “Yeah.”

“Well it’s kinda the same with Michelle. In her logical mind she knows Owen is gone and never coming back, that it was a senseless act of random violence...”

James continued, “But way down deep she still believes that she is not only responsible for his death, but that she must atone for it for the rest of her life. By allowing herself to love you, something she really can’t stop, she feels like she’s betraying his memory.”

He sat forward on the couch, staring at the closed door. “How the fuck can I compete with a ghost?”

“You can’t. The only thing you can do is be there for her and remind her that she is still alive, that the world has joys to offer and that you will be there for her and love her like she deserves to be loved. Basically just do what you’re already doing, but don’t let her guilt drive you away.”

A dinging sound rang through the barn and Yuki quickly stood. “Wyatt, take those pants off and get back into position. James, strip and get next to him.”

James flushed. “What?”

“I need some eye candy to keep her here. She probably wants to come in, tell Wyatt that she’s a horrible person and he should leave. I need you two being all yummy. She’s a voyeur so you two will be impossible to resist.”

Both men shucked their pants and avoided eye contact. Yuki had enough time to position them as she wanted, almost back to back and both with their arms extended overhead, but with one of their arms crossing over the others.

A knock came from the door and Yuki took a deep breath before saying, ‘Come in.”

The door opened and an ashen faced Michelle entered. Her eyes were sunk into her head, rimmed with red and her movements were hesitant, like she was afraid that at any moment she might be struck. Wyatt immediately went to go to her but Yuki snapped, “Don’t you fucking move. If you ruin your position I’m going to be pissed.”

He might have gone anyway, but James clasped his hand on Wyatt’s upraised forearm. Michelle looked from him, to James, and back to him. Some of the sorrow went out of her gaze, replaced by the faintest spark of heat. Still, she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“May I come in?”

“Sure, have a seat on the couch. I’m almost done.”

She nodded, a slope to her shoulders that hurt Wyatt’s heart. When she sat she looked down at her clasped hands and didn’t raise her head as the minutes ticked by. Yuki continued to sketch and as he watched her expression smoothed out and she soon ‘spaced out’ as James liked to put it, becoming wrapped up in her own world.

“Michelle, silver or bronze?”

“What?”

“Look at the guys and tell me if you think this statue would be best in silver or bronze.”

She looked up, her gaze darting over their bodies, then skittering back to Yuki. “I’d go with steel.”

“Really?” This made Yuki look up and she considered the men. “Oh for fucks sake, put your arms down before you dislocate your shoulders. I can see you both shaking.”

Both men did and Wyatt bit back a groan as the pins and needles sensation in his arms became a sting.

“James, come here. You suffered for me so let me make it all better.”

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Michelle flushing, then sitting up straighter. “Wyatt, come here.” Her words came out in a whisper, and it hurt his heart at how afraid she sounded, like she fully expected him to walk away.

He approached her, trying to make her see in his face that he forgave her, but she wouldn’t look at him. “Where would you like me, Domina?”

Now she did look up, and the naked relief in her eyes showed him more than anything that she did indeed love him. God, how could he have not seen it before? Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “I’m still yours, if you’ll have me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked back tears. “Turn around and sit so I can rub your shoulders.”

With a much lighter heart he did as she commanded, letting out a low sigh at the first touch of her hands on his skin. Yuki said something about a wedding coming up for a mutual friend and the women began to chatter animatedly about who was going to be there, what to wear, other normal things that became a background drone. Her thighs parted wider to accommodate his shoulders and he scooted back, surrounding himself with her warmth. Strong and steady, her touch soothed him more than he could imagine and he gave himself up to her silent apology, closing his eyes when she laid a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. Somehow, he’d make this confusing, beautiful woman that drove him crazy realize that she loved him…and that he loved her.

*****

The stars were out by the time he and Michelle said their goodbyes to Yuki and James. After they’d left the barn they’d gone back to the couple’s house and had dinner with them. It had been so normal, so comfortable, that he allowed himself to forget about the impossible task waiting for him.

Slipping his hand into Michelle’s, he pretended not to notice how she flinched, then clenched his hand tight enough to hurt. “I love how clear the sky is out here.”

She didn’t respond, just walking next to him like a silent shadow. The tension thrummed from her and he wished he knew what to say to make her open up. Instead he started talking about the different stars as they strolled back to the house, the first hint of autumn slightly cooling the air, and with it the promise of change.

They reached the side door and he opened it for her. Before she could enter he knelt at her feet and looked up at her. With the light from the kitchen illuminating half of her face his heart skipped a beat at her beauty. She’d swept her hair up in a loose bun, but a few curling tendrils had escaped, softening her aristocratic features and giving him the urge to touch.

“Domina, I would be honored if you would see what I’ve built today.”

She flushed, then whispered, “Wyatt, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’ll understand if you want to leave.”

He looked up her, holding her gaze and drowning in the melancholy blue of her eyes. “I’m not going to say you didn’t piss me off, but I’m not going away because of one spat.”

Her hand shook as she reached out to touch him, but grew steady as she combed her fingers through his hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

Giving her a teasing smile, he nipped at her wrist before saying, “No, you don’t, but you’re stuck with me anyway.”

She seemed to gather herself, to once again draw that mantel of authority around her that made his balls draw up tight. The atmosphere changed, became charged with the first flashes of lighting from the erotic storm to come. She slowly licked her lips and his gaze followed the path of her tongue, imagining what other wicked things she could do with it.

“Did you make the hole like I requested?”

He nodded. “I did, but I don’t know why.”

The savage gleam flared in her gaze and his cock jerked against his pants. “Go get ready for me. I want you kneeling next to the door in the hobby room, naked, with your hands behind your back.”

He watched as she walked into the house, the silhouette of her bare legs visible through the light shining through the thin fabric of her skirt. Anticipation coiled his muscles tight and he practically leapt to his feet. Not wanting to keep her waiting, he raced to his work room and tried to clean up the space as quickly as possible. Thank God the ceiling of this room was a good fifteen feet, he’d need all of it if she planned on using her chair tonight…and he hoped she did.

He tossed his shirt into the corner and struggled with his jeans, his fingers fumbling in his haste and forgetting that he still had his shoes on. After hopping around in an undignified manner while trying to remove his shoes with his pants around his ankles, he was glad Michelle wasn’t here to see this.

Women didn’t usually want to have sex when they were laughing their ass off.

Throwing his shoes into the same corner as his pants, he then removed his black boxer briefs. The moment his cock was free he groaned and looked down at his engorged shaft. A drip of wetness already clung to the tip and he was afraid to wipe it away, unsure if he could resist the temptation of jerking a quick one out.

Since he had no idea how long she’d keep him waiting, he grabbed one of the old, but clean towels out of a cupboard and placed it next to the door. A second later his ass hit his heels as he knelt, arms behind his back, waiting. As he sat there, his mind kept going over his conversation with Yuki and James, trying to piece it together with what he knew of Michelle.

Could guilt really be the reason she didn’t want to sleep with him? Maybe he could push her a bit tonight, test her reaction. While he didn’t mind waiting, and would endure as long as she needed, he had to know that getting his reward was a possibility. He wanted Michelle, all of her, but he had to figure out how to wrestle her mind and heart away from a dead man.

More time passed and eventually his thoughts began to drift and his heartbeat settled into a slower rhythm. His knees had started to ache and his cock remained stiff, but he ignored that discomfort just like he ignored the hurt of every heavy pack he’d hustled during a long march. He’d learned a long time ago to compartmentalize pain, to push it away in the back of his mind until it became a dull ache.

The doors pushed open and he kept his eyes on the floor, but man, oh man, did he want to look up.

From what little he could see, Michelle wore a pair of shiny black boots that appeared as if they’d been painted onto her legs. While pretending to look at the floor he watched those very sexy boots move to stand in front of him. The scent of her soap reached him next, peaches with a hint of vanilla.

She turned away and her boots walked out of sight, but the click of her heels against the tile echoed loud in his ears. Judging by the direction she’d gone, she was looking at his…well his offering now. That word seemed to fit better than chair. For as surely as any sacrifice had been offered up to a Goddess he now offered himself to her, doing what he could to elicit her pleasure rather than incur her wrath, but also to give her a moments happiness in her difficult world.

“Wyatt, this is beautiful. Look at me.”

He did and he slowly let his gaze take in the scene before him, trying not to rush, trying to be still. She wore a pair of black boots that went all the way up her thighs as if painted on, held in place by shiny black latex garters against the smooth cream of her thighs. No panties hindered his view of her sex and he bit back a groan as he noticed how flushed and swollen her pussy lips were. He didn’t think he imagined a shine of moisture on her inner thighs as she turned to walk around the queening chair. Her hair was still swept up, and she wore a tight black latex vest that barely concealed her plumped up breasts. The combination of minimally hidden breasts and exposed sex drove him wild.

“I like this…I really do.” She stroked her hand up the incline bench, now tilted at a steep angle. One end of the bench rested against the ground, braced by additional struts, while the other end led to the back of an old, ornate wooden chair fastened to the top of a box. It was just the right height for him to lean against the bench and have his mouth at the top, where her pussy would be.

She ran her fingers through the white rabbit fur that covered the box where she’d be sitting, with her legs over the side and her beautiful cunt right up to his face. Well, almost to his face. He’d carved a little niche out of the front so he could move his mouth around without hitting his chin on the edge.

“Where did you find this fur?”

“It’s part of a jacket. I got it at the same antique store where I got the chair.”

“Hmmm.” She strode around to the other side on her long, long legs and laughed. “Is this the step stool from my kitchen?”

He grinned and shifted, trying to relive the discomfort of his knees. “Yes, Domina.”

Her gaze cut to him. “Wyatt, please stand up. While I admire your devotion, you being unable to walk would put a large crimp in my plans to enjoy the fuck out of this chair.”

Holding in a groan, he stood and tried to shake the pins and needles out of his legs. “Thank you, Domina.”

The edges of her full, pink lips curved into a sensual smile. “Are you wondering why there is a hole here? And why I had you make it this size?” She traced the area in question in the center of the modified weight bench.

He shrugged. “I wondered, but whatever is your pleasure is my pleasure.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Nicely said. Has James been coaching you?”

Suppressing his smile became difficult. “Domina, can I plead the Fifth?”

Her hips rolled as she strolled towards him, her beauty making his breath catch in his throat. He’d heard of this happening before, of men losing their breath at the sight of a woman, but he’d never experienced it before himself. It was like his entire focus was on her, to the point where breathing became unimportant, a small thing that was easily dismissed. Everything about her captivated him, like she was the essence of all that was female.

The soft scrape of her nails over his nipple rings brought his breath out in a rush, but she continued to walk past him and took something off the counter.

Holding it up, she slowly turned a black painted tube that reminded him of one of those big utility flashlights. “Know what this is?”

“No idea, Domina.” He tried to keep his gaze on her face, but damn, her delicious cunt was so exposed, tantalizingly framed by the black latex of her boots and garters.

She must have noticed because she put the black thing in front of her sex. “Eyes up here, big boy.”

He returned his attention to her face and tried not to grin. “Yes, Domina.”

She strolled up to him again, her legs working those boots, until she was only a few inches away, the heat of her body caressing him. “Having you come from eating my pussy has to be one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced…but I think we can make it better for you.”