Stockholm Syndrome (19 page)

“Okay, show me some options.”

Sharon came ’round the counter and disappeared down one of
the aisles. She was back in just a few moments, with several packages.

“There are loads of different kinds, but I thought you might
like to start with something midrange. These are medium sized, and they all
have multispeed vibration. These three are rechargeable, and these five need
batteries. The rechargeable ones are more expensive, but they’re all fully
waterproof. Of the battery ones, only these two are waterproof.”

“I don’t have time to charge one, but waterproof sounds
good. I’ll be able to clean it properly. Give me that white one.”

“Good choice. It’s our store policy to take it out of the
box and put the batteries in for you, to check it’s working, because we don’t
exchange certain toys, for health and hygiene reasons. You okay with that?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

With the ease of long practice, Sharon unpacked the vibrator
and inserted the batteries. A low hum filled the air when she twisted the back.

“Great, it’s working fine. This little button is for the
different speed and vibration programs.”

She slipped it back in its box and added it to the growing
pile on the counter then placed a pack of batteries next to it.

“Trust me, running out at the wrong time sucks. Now all you
need is condoms, and you’re good to go.”

“Oh, we don’t use condoms. I’m on the pill,” said Evelyn
firmly, alarmed at the amount of stuff stacked next to the cash register.

“He should use a condom when he goes in your back door,”
whispered Sharon confidingly. “Then if you want to have normal sex afterward,
or even just go to sleep, he won’t have to shower or do a big cleanup first.”

There was no arguing with her. Evelyn nodded and held out
her credit card. Sharon was helpful, kind, and extremely annoying. A few
minutes later, she escaped Lulu’s Luv Land and hurried home with her discreet,
unmarked but very distinctive pink plastic bag clutched under her arm. She had
forty-seven minutes before her taxi was due to arrive.

She tipped the bag and sent her purchases rolling onto her
bed. The condoms and spare batteries went straight into her suitcase. She took
the vibrator and butt plug out of their boxes, tossed the cardboard into the
recycling, and washed the toys. Then she had a quick shower.

She came back to the bed naked. The plug lay on the quilt,
gleaming with a soft, pearly glow. Would Mason like it?

She lay down, half propped up against the pillows, and
cupped the glass in her palm, feeling it warm up to the temperature of her
hand. Closing her eyes and parting her legs, she rubbed it slowly over her
pussy, nudging her lips apart to run it along the sides of her clit.

She pictured Mason’s face, remembering how his eyes darkened
with lust when he eased himself into her body. She loved how he clenched his
jaw, trying to hold himself in check, as if he was afraid that he’d hurt her if
he let go. The tendons in his neck bulged and the muscles of his powerful arms
bunched and trembled, all that power leashed and tamed for her. Hot shivers
prickled over her skin and wetness throbbed from her cunt. God, she’d love it
if he fucked her too hard!

Now she was getting excited, but she wasn’t ready to try the
plug in her ass yet. She penetrated her channel with the tip, sliding it in and
out shallowly, making soft wet noises, enjoying the smooth slide of the glass
over her flesh. She pressed harder and after a brief stretch and a satisfying
sensation of ingression, her entrance contracted around the narrow neck.

Her other hand swept up her body to knead her breast then
twirl and pluck at the nipple.

If only she’d bought some nipple clamps while she was at the
sex shop! She craved the pinching pleasure, and she couldn’t squeeze her
nipples and play with her pussy at the same time. Surely she had something in
the house that she could use…

There were clothes pegs in a little plastic basket next to
the sink! She pulled the toy out with a pop, got up, and crossed to the
kitchenette, where she found the pegs and tested the grip of several on her
finger. Selecting two of the more gentle ones, she returned to the bed and lay
back against the pillows. Stretching out her left nipple with her fingers, she
clipped the peg just behind it, crying out as it squeezed the soft areola. The
nipple swelled and hardened. Oh yeah, this could work!

She pegged the other nipple, throwing her head back as the
twin sensations of pressure reverberated down to her cunt. Then she pulled up her
knees, spreading her legs wide, and plunged the butt plug into her soaking
pussy, jerking it rapidly all the way in and out, gasping as the broad head
pushed and pulled at the sensitive tissue.

The vibrator—she needed it now! Her groping fingers closed
around the base, and she twisted it on. Ah, it was heaven as she held it
against her engorged clit with one hand and worked the bullet-shaped glass in
her vagina with the other. A huge climax was building in her core.

But wait, she mustn’t come yet. Now was the perfect time to
insert the butt plug into her ass. She pulled it out of her grasping pussy. The
glass was so slippery with her juices, she wondered if she needed to bother
with extra lube. Deciding to be safe rather than sorry, she grabbed one of the
little tubes from the pack on the bedside table and opened it. Then she knelt
on the bed and reached behind herself, pressing the tip of the slender tube
against her sphincter, feeling some of the cool, viscous liquid ooze out
against her skin. Slowly, every sense attuned to the strange new sensation, she
pushed it a little way into her anus. She realized she’d have to keep her ass
up in the air after she squeezed the lube into herself, or it would run out.

With her free hand, she grabbed two fat pillows and stacked
them against her thighs. She positioned the vibrator on top and carefully bent
over them until her face was down on the mattress. Once in position, she nudged
the vibrator around until it was wedged under her pussy, and she could grind
herself against its hard length.

Spreading her knees wide, she squished the plastic and felt
the cool lube spread inside her anus. She tossed the empty tube to the floor, snatched
up the butt plug, and positioned it against her tightly puckered hole. Then she
worked the tip of the plug in and out, pressing her pussy against the vibrator.

She imagined it was Mason slowly pressing the smooth glass
into her, preparing her for his cock. In her fantasy, he held her down with one
hard hand on the small of her back while he speared her relentlessly, ignoring
her whimpers and wiggles.

Her thighs strained wide, desperately, as she thrust her
clit against the vibrator. Feeling her orgasm mounting, she redoubled her efforts
with the plug, twisting it from side to side as she fucked it into her ass, a
little more with every stroke. She ignored the darts of pain as her tight,
untried opening was forced wide.

Her climax built, arousal deadening the hurt. Her
clothes-pegged nipples dragged against the sheet, tugging and pinching, and the
vibrator buzzed against the length of her clit. Orgasm burst with a roaring in
her ears, and on a shout and a shaft of pain, she sank the plug home and
collapsed as pure sensation swamped her.

Several minutes passed before she was able to drag herself
off the bed and stand upright on weak legs. She was deeply shaken by what she’d
done. Her ass felt full and stretched. One nipple had lost its peg, and she
quickly unclipped the other, groaning at the sensitivity. She had less than
fifteen minutes before her taxi arrived.

She cleaned up quickly and put the vibrator in her suitcase.
She definitely wanted to experiment with it some more! Then she dressed as fast
as she could, choosing her prettiest underwear, a little black shift dress that
ended mid-thigh, and her silver fuck-me strappy heels. Mason had only ever seen
her in jeans, leggings, and shorts, and she hoped that her sexy outfit would
help to weaken his resistance. She dabbed on lip gloss and perfume, and she’d
just finished brushing out her hair when a hooting outside summoned her.

***

Mason awoke reluctantly. There was a persistent pulling at
his arms, and a voice was pounding in his ears, demanding that he move. With a
groan, he allowed himself to be pulled upright, desperately trying not to move
his pounding head any more than was absolutely necessary. Goddamn, he had a
headache from hell!

Someone was helping him home. He was going in through the
kitchen door, sideways. Oh, there were actually two people holding him up.
George and Edna. That was okay. Edna would look after him, because he must be
sick.

“Bed,” he mumbled thickly. He needed to lie down.

More shuffling and pulling. He’d never realized how far his
bedroom was from the kitchen. The feeling of the mattress against his legs was
unbelievably sweet, and he allowed himself to collapse, spread-eagled, onto the
softness, his poor head cradled on the most wonderful pillow. His arms didn’t
seem to be working properly, but he didn’t care. Darkness crept over him again
and he welcomed it like a lover.

When he woke again, his head felt much better. There was no
confusion, and he remembered everything—all the betrayals, starting with Evelyn
and ending with the mutiny of George and Edna.

He roared like a lion when he found his wrists shackled to
the sturdy headboard of his bed—with cable ties! George rushed into his room
with Edna on his heels.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he bellowed. “Cut
me free right now!” He yanked at his bonds. He could slide them up and down the
vertical slats, but the solid timber held firm, and the cable ties cut into his
skin when he twisted his arms.

“Calm down, Mason. Give us a minute to explain.” George’s
plea inflamed Mason’s anger.

“I’m not interested. Just let me up! If this has anything to
do with Evelyn, I will fire you both. How could you do this?” He dragged
himself into a sitting position.

George stepped up next to the bed and looked down at him.

“I’m returning the favor ya once did me. You’re hurt and
angry, and ya were set on doing something very stupid. Ya wouldn’t listen to
reason. Evelyn’s plane will be landing right ’bout now, and she’ll be here in a
couple of hours. You did that girl wrong, so ya can give her a chance to
explain herself.”

Mason looked up into George’s determined face and saw
conviction in his eyes. When he spoke again his voice was quieter.

“Damn it, George. Just let me go. I can see you believe in
what you’re doing. I’m not going to fire you.”

“But will ya speak with Evelyn?”

The mere sound of her name sent tumultuous emotions pouring
through him. He hesitated too long, and George was watching.

“I think we’ll leave ya as ya are—to give her a fair go, ya
know. Come, Edna.”

He took Edna’s arm and led her from the room. Mason looked
after them, disbelief etched across his handsome features.

Chapter Eight

A taxi dropped Evelyn in the driveway of Brady Ranch just
before six o’clock. The driver lifted her suitcase out of the trunk and placed
it on the gravel next to the kitchen door. She paid and thanked him then
watched him drive away, leaving her alone in the lengthening shadows of the
dusky evening, wondering what awaited her inside.

She looked around. It was hard to believe that she’d been
here just this morning. So much had happened since then, it felt like a
different world.

The kitchen door opened and a pool of light spilled out.
Edna emerged, looking tired.

“Thank goodness you’re here. He’s been a real handful. Come
on in. Leave the case. George will take it to your room.”

She followed Edna into the kitchen, feeling ridiculous in
her little dress, her ass full of butt plug and her confidence in tatters.

“Thank you for finding him in time, Edna. I was so relieved
when I got your text after I landed. How did you make him see reason?”

“We didn’t,” said Edna tersely. “But you’ll get to have your
say. Do ya need to freshen up?”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll just go to my room.”

She slipped down the hall, aware of raised masculine voices
coming from the other side of the house. When she came out of the bathroom,
George was in the bedroom bringing her suitcase.

“Hi, Evvy, how’re ya doing?”

“Fine thanks, what about you?”

George shook his head. “It’s been quite a day! Will you come
talk to Mace now? It’d be better if ya don’t wait.”

She hesitated. Now that the moment had arrived, she quailed
with fear. She was so tired. If only she could wait ’til morning, but George
looked determined and impatient.

“Okay. Give me a moment, though. I need something from my
case.”

George nodded, but he didn’t leave, so she unzipped her case
and retrieved the pink bag from Lulu’s Luv Land.

“I’m ready.”

George led her to the opposite wing of the house. He stopped
and knocked loudly at Mason’s bedroom door.

“Me and Edna’ll be in the kitchen if you need us. Good luck.”
Then he raised his voice. “Evelyn’s here. She’s coming in.”

He opened the door and stood aside to let her pass then
closed it firmly behind her.

Evelyn stopped just inside the door. Mason was sitting on
the bed, leaning rigidly against the headboard, his hands right at the top of
the mattress on either side of his body, as if he’d just pulled himself into
position. His fixed his eyes on her, pale and intense.

Seeing him on the bed took her aback, disconcerted her. She’d
expected him to be on his feet, pacing, filled with pent-up rage, or perhaps
sitting in one of the armchairs by the window, cold and remote. A shiver of nervous
arousal caused her inner muscles to clench, and her ass throbbed around the
butt plug.

Only his eyes moved as she edged deeper into the room,
tracking her progress, flicking up and down her body. She wondered what he
thought of her outfit.

He wore different clothes from those he’d had on that
morning. He looked disheveled; his black, button-front shirt crumpled, as if he’d
slept in it, with one cuff of his jeans pushed halfway up his calf. His hair flopped
over his eyes—it looked sexy as hell, but she knew it drove him crazy. She
fought the urge to cross over to him and smooth it back.

“Hi, Mason.”

“Evelyn.”

“Uh, thanks for agreeing to see me.”

He sat stiff and unmoving, and said nothing, so she launched
into the explanation that she’d rehearsed on the plane.

“Mason, I’m very,
very
sorry about that letter. It’s
not true at all. From the time you brought me here, all I could think of was
how to get away. I was
obsessed
with escaping. I felt frightened and
very helpless, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I only caught on to how I felt
about you when I was back in Brisbane.” Her voice wavered with emotion.

“There was a couple at the police station, and the guy was
holding the girl and comforting her. When I saw them, I realized the thing I
want most in the world is to be with you, together like that. That’s when I
knew. Oh god… Please say something! Is it so hard to believe I made a mistake?
Everything happened so fast!”

She moved forward while speaking until she stood at the foot
of the bed, beseeching him with her eyes. He was acting so strangely! Even
shouting would be better than this inert, closemouthed condemnation.

“Won’t you speak to me?” she whispered. She dropped her
eyes, unable to bear his burning stare for another moment.

When at last he spoke, his voice was so rough and hoarse as
to be unrecognizable.

“How did you fake it when we had sex?”

“W-what?”

“When we fucked. You were so passionate. And you trusted me
to do all those things to you. How could you do that if all you were thinking
about was how to get away from me?”

Her cheeks burned but she dragged her eyes up to meet his
again. “I
wasn’t
faking. When we, um, were together, I wasn’t thinking
of anything at all. I couldn’t. I was just feeling and reacting. And afterward
I thought… Well, I thought you were really good at sex. I thought
that
was why it felt so much better with you than with my ex. That’s how I explained
it to myself.”

“How can I trust you? You fooled me completely.”

“I fooled
myself
even more. Please, Mason, you
can
trust me. I’ll never lie to you again. I’m in love with you. That changes
everything.”

He tipped his head back against the hard slats of the
headboard. There was a purple smear along the underside of his chiseled
jawbone, but she couldn’t make out what it was. He looked so uncomfortable, his
position seemed forced, as if he was… She looked more closely.

“Oh god, Mason! Are you tied to the headboard? What’s going
on here?”

He growled. “Bloody George and Edna did this to me so that
you’d get a fair chance to have your say, and I’d have to listen to you.”
Sarcasm dripped from every word. “Now that I have, perhaps you’d be so kind as
to cut me free?”

He raised his hand, sliding it up the headboard, to reveal
the thin band of plastic looped around his wrist and through a smaller band
that encircled the wooden slat. His skin looked raw, red, and swollen where it
had chafed.

“These are cable ties so you’ll need scissors. They’re in
the top drawer of the tallboy.”

She put down the pink bag next to the bed, found the
scissors, and came back to his side, but then she hesitated.

“Will you stay here and speak with me if I let you loose?”
she asked suspiciously.

He didn’t answer immediately. She put the scissors down on
the bedside table.

“Damn it, Evelyn, cut the bloody things! What are you doing?”

“We still need to talk. Please
think
, Mason! Why in
the world would I come back if I didn’t love you? My entire life is in
Brisbane. There’s nothing for me here except you. I got your text, so there’s
no point in denying how you feel about me. You sent it just this morning, so
your emotions can’t have disappeared into thin air. We need to fix this somehow.”

“I’m not sure we can. There’s no trust anymore.”

“There
is
trust,” she insisted. “There’s my trust in
you. I trusted you even when I thought I hated you, and I let you do things to
me that I’d never done before. Now that I know I love you, it’s even stronger,
and I’m going to prove it to you.”

He laughed, a short, bitter sound. “How, for god’s sake? I’m
not going to do anything to you that you need to trust me for! I’m not laying a
finger on you!”

She hoped she’d heard a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Hmm. Then it’s just as well I left you tied up.”

“Evelyn, no! Don’t even think about it!” His voice rang with
command, and she almost listened, almost lost her nerve. But instead she
reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it slowly up, over her head.

***

Mason’s heart pounded. Of course he still loved her. And he
wanted her with a desperation that left him reeling. If he wasn’t tied to the
bed, he would have run—there was no other way he could resist her.

But he was so afraid. In his deepest private thoughts, he
admitted to himself that he was terrified of having his heart broken again; terrified
of the pain and utter helplessness. The taste of heartbreak that he’d had
today, after reading her letter, brought it all back to him. After Bianca… He’d
relived the heart-wrenching anxiety, the memory of unending sleepless nights
when loneliness made the silence scream and echo in his ears, the twisting
stabs of pain from his own unguarded thoughts, and the sense of incompleteness
that tortured him like phantom aches from an amputated limb. No, he didn’t deal
with heartbreak well.

And now Evelyn was back, and she said that she loved him.
Did he dare to believe her? Could she really have fallen in love with him so
fast, after what happened on the night of The Chase?
He
could fall in
love that quickly, he knew. For him, love could happen in a bittersweet moment
and last forever. But he was different. He loved more deeply than most, more
possessively, more completely. It made him the man he was, profoundly passionate
and fathomlessly committed to the one who belonged to him. That was why he had
to be more careful with his heart.

He wanted to trust Evelyn, he really did. Now that she stood
before him, he could see the regret in her eyes and the desperate hope that he’d
believe her. Her words rang with truth. Why would she come back, if not for
him? She’d been free, and she’d returned. It was exactly what he’d prayed for.
But he was deeply shaken at the ease with which she’d deceived him before, and
how quick he’d been to believe her, because he
wanted
it to be true. If
only he could be sure…

His lust raged as she stripped off her little dress. His
cock had been hard from the moment she walked in the room in those high-heeled
shoes. His body didn’t care about his doubts and fears. It wanted one thing—to
sink into her, claim her inside and out, and bind her to him forever with his
unique brand of pleasure and pain.

She stood in her underwear, her magnificent breasts cradled
high in the skimpy bra, her pale skin gleaming through the black lace, the
circles of her areolas a dark, alluring shadow under the shifting patterns. Her
panties, a scrap of black filigree, barely hid her curls, with delicate strands
of fabric disappearing over her flawless, rounded hips.

Carnal animalism rose within him, clawing at his gut,
demanding satiation. His fingers dug into the mattress, and the pain at his
bound wrists vanished at the surge of adrenaline and testosterone that flooded
his body.

She turned her back to him and bent from the hips to
unbuckle the delicate ankle straps of her silver heels, deliberately displaying
her ass, taunting him. Although scanty, the triangle of her panties covered far
too much for his liking, hiding her core from his avid gaze. She took her time
with the task, allowing him plenty of opportunity to fantasize about stripping
away the annoying barrier and sinking his cock into first one tantalizing
opening and then the other.

By the time she stood up and turned to face him once more,
he knew his expression would betray him. One look would tell her that she was
playing with fire—what she had awakened would consume them both.

Her eyes widened in response when she met his stare, but
instead of running from him, which was the only wise course, she approached the
bed and climbed onto it on her knees. She didn’t touch him, but stopped an arm’s
length away.

“I want you to want me,” she said.

“I do. Too much.”

“I want to give you something.”

“What?” he breathed. He couldn’t imagine what she meant, but
he could smell her arousal, a hint of musk beneath her clean, fresh perfume.

“Something I know you want.”

She turned away from him again and pulled her panties down
over the globes of her buttocks. Then she leaned on her hands, legs slightly
parted, allowing him to see what had been hidden from his gaze before.

Allowing him to see the smooth, softly gleaming base of the
butt plug nestled between the cheeks of her ass, just above the glistening lips
of her pussy.

The implications bombarded his mind like a meteor shower.
She
wanted
him to take her that way. She had never been touched there,
but she’d tried to prepare herself for him. It meant that on the deepest level,
she understood his need to possess her by every possible means, his wish—no,
his requirement—that she should deny him nothing of herself. And she acceded.

She was offering him the ultimate requital.

All he had to do was trust her with his heart.

***

He said nothing, leaving her on her hands and knees so long
that she started to shake, and tears of frustration filled her eyes. She’d
failed. She’d offered him her trump card, but he didn’t want it. He didn’t want
her. She didn’t know what to do.

“Evvy?” His voice was thick, but he used his nickname for
her. A tiny flicker of hope sparked in her heart.

“Mason?”

“Turn around. Look at me.”

She shuffled around to face him. His eyes were dark with
passion, but filled with an unreadable emotion.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Very.”

“There’s no turning back, you know. I’ll never let you go
again.”

“You can keep me tied up.” A fluttering in her chest, a
bubble of lightness, fought its way free of all the angst.

“I will, often. You’ll love it.”

“I know I will. But right now, you’re the one who’s tied up.”

“Yes.” His pupils were enormous. “Kiss me, Evvy.”

She pulled her panties the rest of the way off and climbed
onto him, straddling his denim-covered thighs, and caressed his hair out of his
eyes. Then she touched her lips to his, brushing them to and fro. He growled.