THIRTEEN
“Am I out of my ever-loving mind?” Kelsey asked, balancing her cell phone between her shoulder and ear while reclining in the window seat in Wyatt’s kitchen and trying to keep her voice from echoing through the cavernous space.
“It’s five thirty in the morning, Kels,” Brynn said with a groan. “I thought you had an emergency or something.”
“This is an emergency.” She glanced at the entryway, verifying she was still alone. “I’m going to be leaving in a few hours for this trip, and I think I’m losing it. How in the hell is anyone going to believe I’m really some rich chick? Or that I’m actually dating someone like Wyatt?”
“Why wouldn’t you date someone like Wyatt? From everything I’ve heard from Reid and Jace, Wyatt’s a good guy. Smart and level-headed.”
She blew a wisp of hair off her forehead. “Exactly. The kind of guy who never dates girls like me. I just know I’m going to slip up and do or say something that waves a big white trash flag.”
“Oh, honey.”
“I’m serious.” Kelsey leaned her head back against the windowsill. “I’m going to fuck this up.”
“You are not—hold on.” There was a rustling of what Kelsey assumed were bedsheets on the other end and then a grumbled Where you going so early, sugar? from her sister’s fiancé, Reid. After a quick, muffled exchange, Brynn came back on the line. “Okay, I’m awake now. I think. And I don’t want to hear you calling yourself trash. Where we came from is not who we are now. You know that. And money is just that—money. It doesn’t make the crowd you’re going to be with any better than you. All you need to do is stay by Wyatt’s side. People will believe you’re together if you act like you’re into him.”
Kelsey sighed and barely resisted tapping her head against the wall. “I don’t have to act that part. I am into him. I slept with him. Am sleeping with him.”
“You’re what?” Brynn asked in hushed surprise.
Kelsey watched a squirrel scamper through the wet grass outside, knowing she probably shouldn’t say anything but not wanting to keep something from her sister. She’d told Brynn enough lies in her lifetime already. “I didn’t tell you all of the agreement.”
“Uh-oh. Lay it on me.”
Kelsey explained quickly what she’d signed up for. Brynn, a submissive herself, wouldn’t need many details to know exactly how big of a deal this was for Kelsey.
The line was silent for a few long moments, and Kelsey wondered if the call had dropped, but then her sister cleared her throat. “Kels, you know I’ll never be one to judge anyone in this arena. Heaven knows I’m in a glass house in that respect. But are you sure you’re ready for such an intense experience? I don’t want you—did you talk to Melody about this?”
“Yes. Of course, she wasn’t a hundred percent behind the idea, but said it was my call if I felt strong enough to handle it.” Kelsey had been seeing Melody, a therapist at the women’s crisis center where Brynn worked, once a week for the last year. “She wants me to keep a daily journal of my moods and wants me to call her and check in every few days. And if anything triggers me, she wants me to call her immediately.”
Brynn released a long breath. “This is risky, Kels.”
“You think this is going to make me slip up, don’t you?” she asked, voicing her own fears. After last night, she felt more off balance than she had in months—like walking down a long pier with broken boards, never knowing when one was going to snap. The disorienting state of surrendering under Wyatt’s dominance had a constant hum of panic vibrating through her. Every time she’d tried to hold on to to some safety rope of control last night, he’d ripped it right out of her hands and sent her into free fall. And though she’d sworn she wouldn’t ever breathe a word of it, she’d found herself trusting him with the ugliest piece of her past. God, how had that come tumbling out?
“Of course not, honey,” Brynn answered, her voice all empathy and big-sisterness. “You’re stronger than you think. But I also know what it can be like to be emotionally stripped down by a skilled dom. The first time I was with Reid after I got back together with him, it triggered a monster of a panic attack. I know you don’t get those like I used to, but you never know when a scene might bring scary shit back to the surface. And beyond stirring up the trauma, it can also create a false sense of intimacy and security with the dom, make them look like a savior.”
“Is that your therapist way of telling me not to mistake good sex for love?”
“It can be an easy trap to stumble into,” she said gently. “And D/s only makes that trapdoor harder to see.”
And it’d been a mistake Kelsey had made before—not with D/s but with every relationship she’d ever been in. Her history of falling too fast and for the wrong guys stretched out behind her like streamers of regrets flapping in the wind. “Wyatt’s not looking for a relationship and neither am I. We both know when this thing will end.”
Kelsey could almost hear her sister’s frown over the phone. “Just take care of yourself, Kels. If at any point you feel like it’s too much or you find yourself wanting to slip back into old habits, you call me. I don’t care what time. I’ll get on a plane and come and get you. Nothing and no one is worth going backward over. You’ve come too far.”
She nodded, though it was to an empty room. “Okay.”
In that moment, she hated how fragile she felt, how on the brink her life always seemed. She shouldn’t even have to worry about this. Most people were tough enough to deal with what life gave them. Brynn had been one of Davis’s victims as a teenager and had lived the same childhood Kelsey had—maybe worse because she’d been the oldest and responsible for herself, their alcoholic mother, and Kelsey—and look how Brynn had turned out. A great career. A loving relationship. No addictions. No fear that any wrong move would land her on junkie row.
Kelsey was tired of living her life on an electrified high wire. She wanted to be able to try new things and take risks without the worry that she’d fall victim to her past or her weaknesses again. Maybe if nothing else, this trip with Wyatt could help her prove to herself that she was capable of dealing, that she wasn’t a slave to her history.
The only terrifying part was . . . what if she was wrong? What if the craving to get numb came back? She wasn’t sure she could climb out of that pit again if she fell back in.
Brynn yawned, breaking Kelsey from her whirling thoughts, then quickly apologized.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry about waking you, B. I shouldn’t have done that. But I’ve been up since four, have tried to write my journal entry three different times, have had to reapply deodorant twice, and am making desperation muffins as a calm-your-ass-down plan. You were my last hope.”
Brynn laughed lightly. “It’s okay. You know you can call me anytime. Sometimes talking it out is the only thing that works. And for the record, I think you’re going to do great on the trip. You’re naturally good with meeting new people.”
Right. Except usually those people wanted waffles from her, not her opinion on politics or the stock market. She checked the timer on the oven. Two more minutes until the muffins were done. “I figured at worst, I can talk about food. That’s like the weather, right? Everyone loves food.”
“It’ll be fine,” her sister said, using that talk-you-off-the-ledge therapist tone of hers. “You be yourself as much as you can and follow Wyatt’s lead. He’s not going to expect you to know it all.”
“I know. And believe me, so far, I’ve been good at doing what he tells me to do.” She bit her lip, peeking at the doorway again.
“Oh, really,” Brynn said, her voice taking on a don’t-mind-me lilt. “So Jace isn’t the only Austin who knows what he’s doing in that department?”
Kelsey’s cheeks burned at the question, but before she could respond, another thought hit her. “Wait a minute, how exactly would you know anything about Jace in the bedroom, Ms. Engaged-to-Reid?”
Brynn coughed. “Don’t turn the question around me.”
“Oh, nun-uh. You’re not backing out of this one. Spill.”
Brynn sighed. “Reid and Jace are best friends, so . . . you know. It was only a one-time thing, though. Turns out sharing isn’t really Reid’s thing.”
“You trashy whore,” Kelsey teased. Up until last year when Brynn had admitted to her that she was in a D/s relationship with Reid, Kelsey had always thought of her sister as the ultimate vanilla good girl. But more and more she was realizing she and Brynn weren’t so different. Somehow Kelsey found that comforting.
“I have my moments,” Brynn said breezily. “So now it’s your turn. Dish.”
Kelsey slid off the window seat and headed toward the oven to pull out the muffins. “Well, I’m not one to kiss and tell like you are. I have some class and all.”
Her sister sniffed.
“But I will say the Austin gene pool is strong.”
Brynn laughed. And Kelsey realized how good it was just to girl talk with her sister for a change. For so many years, it was always Brynn playing parent/protector/therapist to Kelsey, taking care of her because she sucked at taking care of herself. But now they were finally getting a chance to develop a friendship. It was . . . nice, normal. Bizarre.
“Well, good for you, Kels. I hope you let yourself enjoy this then. A sexy trip with a nice guy may be just what you need. As long as you—”
“I know.” Kelsey slipped on an oven mitt and pulled out the tray of orange macadamia muffins, nearly dropping her phone in the process. “I’ll be careful. If he tries to push me too far, I’ll channel my alter ego.”
“That’s right. That’ll straighten him out. No one puts Lady K in a corner . . . or something.”
Kelsey groaned. “Lame.”
“Sorry, I need caffeine. Are you still going to be back in time to do the last-minute wedding stuff with me? I mean, if everything is cleared up with that jackass Howie Miller by then?”
Damn, was it that time already? All this drama had sprung up so fast, she’d lost all sight of what had been going on before that day in the alley. She hadn’t even broken the news to her sister that she planned to move after all this was over. Some maid of honor she was going to make. “Sure, you bet.”
“All right, well, take a deep breath, bake your muffins, and walk into that retreat like you belong there.”
“Will do.”
But she knew the words were still a good percentage bravado. She was skilled at playing roles, at being whoever she needed to be when the situation called for it, but she knew if anyone looked too hard, they’d see the frayed edges, would see that she didn’t belong.
She just had to hope to God no one would take the time to really see her.
The guy sleeping upstairs had already seen far too much. She prayed he’d keep his promise and not treat her any differently now that he knew. She didn’t want to be Fragile Girl on this trip. She wanted to be his sub. A little fun. A little training. A lot of sex.
Which is exactly why she’d hopped out of bed so quickly this morning when she’d woken up and realized they’d slept next to each other all night, spooning. Waking up in his arms had felt too damn good, the urge to turn over and cuddle too strong. This was not supposed to be about lazy mornings in bed.
She set her phone down and slid the muffin tray onto the stove to cool. She couldn’t put the drizzle of white chocolate on them yet or it’d melt off. So she went to her purse to pull out the little notebook she’d bought on Melody’s suggestion. She turned to the first page and began to write.
She was still scribbling a few minutes later when Wyatt strolled into the kitchen, all tousled hair and wrinkled pajama bottoms. “And I thought I was an early riser.”
She stared at him for a moment, the contrast to his normally super-polished look hitting her like a punch to the gut. Man, how could this version of him be even more knee-weakening? It wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to keep things cool and casual when her body had some sort of pre-wired, lose-your-shit response to him?
“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” And felt you curled around me naked and warm and too damn tempting. “So I figured I’d make us some breakfast.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever woken up to such a delicious scent.” He walked over to her, dimples showing, and pulled her to a stand, making her wonder if he was referring to the muffins or her. Lord knows she’d buried her nose in his pillows absorbing his morning scent—soap, fabric softener, and that spicy undercurrent of man—before climbing out of bed. She’d only slipped on one of his dress shirts and a pair of panties this morning, but the look on his face said he appreciated the outfit. He tugged her by the front of her shirt and hauled her against him. “But I was looking forward to having you for breakfast, Ms. LeBreck. Imagine my disappointment when I rolled over to a cold bed.”
Her heart lifted at the fact that he wasn’t all puppy eyes and Are you okay? after her revelation last night. His tone and expression were pure sex, served up hot. She slid her hands up his bare chest, her body quaking with awareness at his nearness, his warmth. “I’m sorry. I figured you’d want to sleep in, and I didn’t want to risk waking you.”
“Mmm, thoughtful. But unnecessary.” He nodded at the notebook sitting on the table. “What are you up to?”
“Just making a few notes for the trip,” she said, the lie rolling off her tongue like an automatic reflex.
“How diligent of you. But that furrowed brow you had is way too serious for so early in the morning.” His hands drifted down over the curve of her ass, causing her to wince ever so slightly. “Are you sore?”
“A little, but not in a bad way.” Her rear had been tender when she’d first sat up this morning, but the effect had been anything but unpleasant. To her own surprise, she’d gone hot and bothered in an instant at the sensation, at the memory of his hands on her.
“I have to say, when I woke up without you next to me, I was a little worried I’d scared you off.” His warm palms spanned her waist beneath the shirt. “I know you revealed more about yourself than you planned to last night. And I was harder on you than I’d originally anticipated being for our first time together.”
She looked up at him, finding his expression a little guarded, tentative. Like he was half-expecting her to scamper right out the door. “I’m not going anywhere, Wyatt. Last night was good, really good. Yes, you surprised me. I didn’t think you’d be so . . .”
His gaze was heavy on hers. “So what?”
“So all in,” she said, searching for the right words. “When you said you didn’t do this anymore, that you could put it aside, I figured you had just done it as kinky fun in the past. You know, played around with it. I didn’t expect—”
“Yeah,” he said, releasing a breath and reaching up to touch her face. “I didn’t know how it would go either. But it seems the door is either wide open for me or locked tight when it comes to this. And being around you busts that door right down. I need to know you’re okay with that.”
She licked her lips. A few days ago, that probably would’ve scared her off. Part of her had anticipated being able to hold on to a little control, to manipulate him a bit. But when he’d turned down her offer to finish the blow job, she’d realized how seriously he was taking the training. He’d wanted her to finish him off, and she could see the need painted all over his face. But she’d earned a punishment, and he wasn’t going to let her take control by using his own pleasure against him. So, he’d set aside his needs and had taken the less pleasurable route to remind her of her mistake and her role. It was the move of a seasoned dominant. It had scared the hell out of her. And had also soothed her in some undefinable way.
He’d put her first. No guy had ever put her first.
“You’re very good at it,” she said, being honest but dodging his question about how she was feeling.
He pushed her hair behind her ears, his gaze tender. “And I thought you were beautiful already, but you’re breathtaking in submission, Kelsey. Like punch-me-in-the-gut gorgeous.”
She glanced down, her cheeks warming at the compliment. She was used to guys telling her she was pretty or sexy or whatever. She’d heard every version of male bullshit imaginable while working at the strip club. But somehow, the way Wyatt said it made her believe he wasn’t simply talking about her ample rack or how she looked naked. “Thank you.”
“So I didn’t scare you, huh?” he asked, lifting her chin upward.
Yes. But not in the way he feared. And even if her mind was yelling at her to run, to hide from this man who seemed to get under her armor so easily, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Even now, all she wanted to do was touch him, be touched, have him command her body in a way no one else ever had. “I want to be here, Wyatt.”
His mouth curled upward, pure pleasure in his eyes. “Glad to hear it.”
He leaned past her and set her closed notebook down on the chair, then shoved the bowl of pears on the kitchen table over to the edge, almost sending it crashing to the floor.
He grabbed her waist and guided her toward the tabletop. “Lay down, love.”
She glanced back at the long wooden table. Her lips parted to question him, but the singular look in his eyes didn’t leave much room for interpretation. “Yes, sir.”
She scooted onto the table and lay down, leaving her calves hanging over the edge. Without a word, he tugged her underwear off, then came around to the other side and helped her pull the borrowed shirt off, leaving her bare in the daybreak sunlight filtering through the windows.
When he made his way back to her lower half, he guided her ankle to the corner of the table and wrapped soft material around it. She pulled in a breath.
“I should be more prepared,” he said almost to himself as he secured her ankle to the post. “But I don’t have any cuffs that will work with the legs of this table. So this shirt and a kitchen towel are going to have to do. Does that feel too tight?”
“No, sir,” she said, her voice catching in her throat.
“Good, girl. Now reach out and grab the edges of the table. If you let go, I’ll find something to tie your hands as well.” She did as she was told, her temperature climbing from simmer to steady burn as she lay there for him. She hadn’t been bound by anyone since Davis. If anything should trigger her fear, this should. But none came. This was on a different planet from being tied against her will with those painful zip ties, and her body registered that fact immediately. This was sexy and fun and so . . . fucking . . . hot. Wyatt bound her other ankle, leaving her spread wide and exposed for whatever he planned to do with her. Once he rose to his full height again, his hot gaze swept over her naked form, and amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Now this is a beautiful breakfast.”
He gave her knee a quick squeeze and then headed back toward the stove. She’d made a pot of coffee already, and he turned his back to her for a moment, fixing himself a cup like he had all the time in the world.
“Uh, sir?”
He peeked back at her, a naughty boy smile. “Yes, love?”
“Did I do something wrong?” Was this her punishment for getting out of bed without asking him if that was okay?
“Of course not.” He poured a dash of skim milk into his cup. “But I spend every day of my life with a packed-to-the-gills schedule. This morning is about indulging. And right now, I want to take my time indulging in you.”
She swallowed past the sudden dryness in her throat. “Oh.”
He took a long sip of his coffee, keeping his eyes on her. “So tell me about these muffins.”
A quick laugh bubbled out. It was the question he asked her each morning in the restaurant. Only she’d never had to answer him while naked, flat on her back, and about as turned on as a person could be. She cleared her throat, preparing her specials-of-the-day voice. “They’re orange macadamia nut with a white chocolate drizzle. Well, they will be once I get around to drizzling them.”
“Sounds delicious. Your baking is going to be hell on my strict eating regime, Ms. LeBreck. All this temptation. I’m not usually one to indulge, but I find it hard to resist when you’re around.” He picked up the little bowl of melted white chocolate she’d set on top of a hot mug of water to keep it warm. “Is this the drizzle?”
“Yes, sir.”
He set down his coffee and dipped a finger in the chocolate, then brought it to his mouth, tasting. “Mmm, that’s amazing. What’d you add to it?”
“Orange zest. It’s even better on top of the muffins.”
He raised an eyebrow and grabbed a whisk from the carafe of utensils next to the stove. “Is that right?”
She couldn’t answer as she watched him stir the mixture slowly, then draw the whisk above the bowl so that little ribbons of the chocolate ran off the whisk and back into the bowl. The wicked quirk of his mouth told her everything she needed to know.
He strolled her way again, the front of his pajama bottoms showing signs of his growing interest in breakfast, and set the bowl next to her. His hand caressed her hip, sending hot goose bumps marching across her skin. “Last night was going to be about your pleasure. About me discovering how you liked to be touched. But you tried to steer the ship instead.”
Her tongue darted out, swiping across her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Shh.” He pressed his finger to her mouth, the remnants of the chocolate sweet against her lips. “You accepted your punishment beautifully last night, so no need to apologize again. But now, it’s my turn to get what I wanted in the first place.”
He lifted the whisk from the bowl and held it over her chest. Warm ribbons of chocolate drizzled down, coating her nipples and sliding down over her breasts. Her neck arched, the sinful sensation racing straight downward, heating everything in its path, and settling between her thighs. The scent of orange hit her nose. Wyatt smiled and drew the whisk over her belly, leaving a swirling splatter pattern of glossy white chocolate in his wake.
“Too warm?” he asked.
“God, no,” she breathed. “It’s . . .”
Then his mouth was on her, stealing her words. His tongue glided over the side of her breast, following the trail of chocolate until his lips locked around a nipple. The softness of his mouth mixing with the abrasive grit of sugar in the chocolate was almost too much to take at once. She moaned into the touch, and he sucked hard, bringing her nipple to an aching point. Her clit throbbed in time with each suck, her ankles tugging at the bindings as her thighs automatically tried to close and provide pressure for the insistent need there.
Wyatt eased back a bit, flicking her once more with the tip of his tongue. “So the question is, love, do you respond to the soft and sensual approach . . .” He reached out and circled her nipple oh so gently. “Or do you prefer a little bite?”
His thumb and forefinger clamped onto her, pinching. Her back arched off the table, a hot boom of need rippling outward from his touch. “Fuck.”
He chuckled, a darkly pleasant sound. “Well, that answers that. Guess it’s a good thing Jace talked me into buying some brutal little clamps for our trip.”
She shivered, and Wyatt cupped her other breast, bringing his mouth down again—sucking and laving, cleaning every drop of confection off her. The warm chocolate he’d painted on her belly dripped down her sides, making it feel like she had more than one hot tongue licking at her. Even the sticky, wet sounds of chocolate-covered lips against skin were driving her to the brink of desperation. She wriggled beneath him, the need coiling and pulsing in her, energy demanding to be let out.
He gave her thigh a sharp little smack while grazing her nipple with his teeth. Stay still. He didn’t have to say it; she got the message. Her fingers gripped the table harder, and moisture coated her sex, her own scent drifting up to her nose and mixing with the orange from the chocolate.
The house phone rang, startling her for a moment, but Wyatt lifted his head, looking down at her. “Ignore it. All your focus on me and what you’re feeling.”
“Yes, sir.”
The phone continued to ring as he straightened and grabbed the bowl again. Before she knew it, he was in between her spread thighs, looking down at her with unabashed hunger. He lifted the whisk and drizzled the chocolate over her inner thighs and over her freshly waxed mound. The warmth alone reminded her of how it’d felt to have him come on her last night, his semen sliding down and over her back. It’d been one of the sexiest things she’d ever experienced.
He touched the lips of her sex, a gentle caress. “You’re so pink and swollen, love. I can’t wait to taste every inch of you. Would you like that?”
“Yes, sir,” she gasped. “Please.”
He grabbed her leg and drew his tongue up her thigh, licking off the chocolate and making her quiver. “I will. As soon as I get you all cleaned off. As much as I love your cooking, when I eat this pretty pussy of yours, I don’t want to taste anything but you.”
She whimpered at that, the pulsing in her clit becoming like a bass drum reverberating through her body.
Then he was doing exactly what he promised, tasting and dragging his tongue along every inch of her inner thighs, laving it off her mound, taking his time and driving her to a panting, begging mess. Unable to keep ahold of the table, her hand balled and pounded in a steady rhythm against the table, the energy having to go somewhere.
Wyatt paused in his tortuous treatment, his voice gritty with his own restraint. His thumb grazed over her clit, a gentle stroke, but it sent sparks through her nonetheless. “Touch your tits for me, Kelsey. And don’t be shy. Let me see just what you like.”
She raised her head to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with intention as he hovered there between her thighs, looking up the length of her body. She held his eye contact and brought her hands to her breasts, cupping and sliding her hands over her wet, sticky skin. She knew how to do this for effect, to put on the dancer show, but she had no desire to fake it with Wyatt. So instead she touched where she needed and how she wanted, pinching and plucking at her nipples until they were pulsing in time with her clit. Then, lifting her head higher and arching her back, she grabbed her breast and did something she’d only ever tried in private. She dragged the tip of her tongue over her own nipple, tasting the chocolaty remnants. Wyatt’s groan echoed off the high ceilings of the kitchen.
“You are the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He held her thighs wide, his grip tight and his voice lowering. “You keep this up, and I’m not going to want to let you go at the end of this trip. I’ll be cuffing you to my bed so I can keep you.”
Her eyes squeezed shut and her hand fell away from her breast as startled alarm went through her. No. He wasn’t supposed to say things like that. He wasn’t supposed to make this more than it was. But before she could react further or respond to Wyatt’s declaration, he lowered his head and buried his face between her legs, his lips and tongue hitting her exactly where she needed.
She bucked against him, moaning, as he lit up her nervous system with his tongue. Thoughts emptied out of her head. All that was left was the mind-bending ecstasy he was giving her with his relentless, sensual ministrations. Breaking the rules, she reached down and threaded her fingers in his silky dark hair, her hips now rocking in rhythm with him, riding the pleasure. His nose nuzzled her clit as his tongue delved inside her fully, in and out in an erotic slide. Fucking her with his mouth.
She couldn’t hold it back or stop the pressure from building. And when he returned his full attention to her clit and buried his fingers inside her, everything burst through her like a flash of light. The table rattled beneath her as a shout tore from her throat and her body rode the waves of her orgasm.
He held her against his mouth, not letting up until her first peak had passed and another was building on its heels. Then when she was about to go over again, he rose up, grabbing at her thighs and yanking her ass to the edge of the table. Before she could take another breath, he slipped on the condom and pushed inside her, his cock thick and hot, stretching her without mercy.
“Again,” he demanded, thrusting into her with delicious brutality. “Come for me again. I want to feel you.”
She didn’t need the order. Her body was already charging up the next mountain. She wasn’t even sure the first orgasm had ever stopped. Her nails cut crescents into her palms and she cried out again, pleasure pulsing through her and her sex clasping around Wyatt.
He came along with her, and the world felt like it was spinning off course beneath her as he held on to her tight.
He’d said he might not want her to leave.
He wasn’t supposed to say things like that.
He wasn’t supposed to make her feel this way.
No, no, no . . .