by Kendall Ryan
“God, baby, you’re so wet already.”
“All for you,” she murmured huskily. “Touch me, please.”
I obeyed in a heartbeat, echoing her moan when she pulled my cock free and started stroking up and down with whisper-soft strokes.
This was nothing like sex with Daniella. In our sessions, I always held myself at arm’s length, preserving the image of the stern, in-control Dom that she needed. My body might bind and strike and fuck, but because everything was on my terms, my heart stayed safely locked away.
But right now, even though I still had my pants on—and Lacey hadn’t gotten undressed at all—I had never felt so naked before. Staring into her eyes like this, breathing her breath, I couldn’t hide anything about myself.
More importantly, I realized I didn’t want to hide. I wanted her to see the real me, because I knew she would accept it. She saw all my flaws and weaknesses, all my regrets and nightmares, without so much as a flinch. Instead she smiled at them, as if to say I wouldn’t have you any other way. This is what makes you who you are. And I let myself be swept along in the ocean of her eyes.
Carefully I slipped two fingers inside her, desperate to give her pleasure, to lose control with her. Her body gripped me tightly and she let out a soft moan.
I wanted to know Lacey in the same way she knew me. To get rid of everything between us—no fear, no pride, just skin on skin. When she shivered, my cock throbbed with her excitement, and her pussy squeezed my fingers.
Our arousal echoed back and forth as if our nerves were linked. Her pleasure matched mine, rising higher and hotter with every moment. Our arms and legs tightened around each other in anticipation. Moaning aloud, we dissolved together.
Long after our pleasure had faded, we still held each other tightly, legs entwined. The setting sun had painted the bedroom walls in gold. I rested my chin against Lacey’s forehead and inhaled the lavender scent of her hair. Her breath fanned over my neck. Our chests touched in a gentle rhythm, falling apart, rising together.
I wanted to stay like this forever. And that was exactly why I had to leave.
• • •
Back at home, I poured kibble into Sutton’s dish, trying to figure out what the hell just happened as the bulldog gobbled his dinner with slobbering crunches.
I’d never felt such a deep connection to a woman before. Like the outside world had just melted away, leaving me and Lacey to become our own universe. Like I could see my own future in her eyes.
This afternoon with her had been sweet, gentle, incredibly hot . . . and utterly terrifying. I’d done some pretty filthy things in bed, even before Daniella, but I’d never been so vulnerable, let alone welcomed that vulnerability.
I went to the couch, Sutton lumbering after me. Seeing Lacey had felt amazing, but once I was away from her, all my vague restlessness rushed right back. I needed to stare at the ceiling and think for a while. Or maybe I was already overthinking. Maybe what I really needed right now was some mindless TV.
But just as I sat down, the front door’s lock clicked. Daniella swept in with a heavy sigh.
“Ugh, work was fucking awful today.” She untied her tennis shoes and tossed them into the entry closet. “Two nurses called in sick, and some jack-off yelled at me because he had to wait for two hours in the ER. Dude, the candlestick up your ass ain’t going nowhere. Let’s deal with the gunshot wounds and heart attacks first.”
“Wow, that sucks,” I replied in a monotone.
If Daniella noticed my distracted state, she didn’t care. Her tired smile turned hungry as she walked around the couch. “It did really suck. Fortunately, I know a great way to unwind,” she purred.
She leaned over to rub my shoulders, pressing the back of my head into her cleavage. Her hair tickled my neck, and I irritably brushed it aside like a mosquito.
Even an idiot could tell what Daniella was waiting for. She wanted me to get up, grab her arm, drag her into her bedroom, tie her up, spank her ass raw, and fuck her until she screamed. But the thought just didn’t appeal right now. Even though I could feel her nipples through her shirt, piercings and all, my cock resolutely stayed limp.
“I don’t know,” I finally said. I don’t know anything.
All of a sudden, I felt very tired. I’d taken that Oklahoma City job to clear my head, but half a week away from these two women hadn’t helped at all. Thoughts of Lacey had kept distracting me. In the middle of reviewing witness depositions or analyzing CCTV footage, I’d catch myself wondering what she was doing. Wishing I could spend time with her—not necessarily having sex, but definitely not in a “just friends” way, either. And then that weird moment in bed tonight . . . lying on our sides facing each other, staring into her hooded eyes as we came apart together.
“You don’t know? What does that mean?” Daniella’s hands paused on my shoulders. “Are you saying you’re not up for it?”
Shaking my head, I shrugged. “Sorry—”
“No, it’s okay,” she said, cutting me off as she stepped back. “How did your mission go?”
“I don’t do ‘missions’ anymore. But it went fine—no real hiccups.” Sutton bumped his head into my leg, grumbling for attention, and I reached down to scratch behind his ears.
When I didn’t elaborate, Daniella nodded in resigned acknowledgment. “Well, that’s always good to hear.” She paused for a moment before asking, “You’re still taking me to the Nurses’ Ball, right? It’s this Thursday.”
“Of course . . . I remember. My tux is at the cleaner’s, but I’ll be ready.” I always followed through on my commitments. Always.
She smiled, and I felt myself relax a bit. Seeing that smile was important to me. I’d nursed her back to health after a massive broken heart.
“Don’t freak out, but I had an idea,” I started. It was something that had been stewing in the back of my mind for the last few weeks, and I wanted to hear what she thought.
“What?” She raised one brow in curiosity.
“What if I took you back to the club?”
After her ex dumped her, Daniella had stopped visiting the local BDSM club they’d once frequented together. That disappearing act had hurt a lot of her friendships. It pissed me off to watch Daniella isolate herself like this. Her ex had been the asshole here, but she was the one being punished. Even two years later, she was still too afraid of running into him to go where she damn well pleased.
She frowned, taking a step back. “Why? Because you’re trading me in for Lacey?”
“What? No, of course not. It’s because you’re stronger now. I thought you might be ready to take that kind of step again.”
“I have no interest in that, Nolan. Being here with you is as close to perfect as I’ve ever had.”
With just those few simple words, she tugged on my heart. I really was her savior. “It was just a suggestion.”
Her hands came to rest on my hair. “I have everything I need right here. Are you sure you don’t want to . . .”
“Not tonight.” The words felt like acid on my tongue. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?
She stepped back again and stretched hard, squeaking as her back popped. “Then I think I’m going to take a nap before dinner. Holler if you need anything.” She headed to her bedroom—obviously planning to spend some quality time with her vibrator.
But then she stopped in her tracks. “Nolan?”
“Yeah?” I turned my head to see her staring at me from halfway down the hall.
“Could she ever . . . change what we have?”
Her voice was so sad, her eyes so dark. Sympathy squeezed hard inside me.
“No. Never,” I heard myself say. “You know I’m never going to settle down with a wife and kids.” I smiled at her to tell her it was the absolute truth. “That’s not me, babe.”
She grinned back. “I know that. You’re like a wild horse. Roaming free, not meant to be tied down.”
“Exactly.”
“You’re always
going to want a sub on the side.”
I didn’t say anything else. What could a man say to that? I just watched Daniella head to her bedroom, until I heard the door click shut behind her.
Looking back down at Sutton, I cupped the dog’s jowls and stared into his saggy brown eyes.
What the fuck was going on here? This wasn’t the first time I’d turned down Daniella, but before, it had always been for some concrete reason. I was nursing a hangover, had to get up early the next day, whatever.
I still wasn’t sure why I didn’t want Daniella right now. Why my thoughts kept returning to Lacey, like iron filings drawn by a magnet. Why I felt a strange gnawing that I couldn’t put my finger on—a nagging sense of unreality.
As a Navy SEAL, I’d suffered through blood, sweat, and tears. I’d escaped from six years of hell and built the life I’d always wanted. Easy pleasures. Good friends, good sex, good whiskey. A laid-back, well-paying job where I could come home to my own bed every night.
Right now, though, all those hard-earned rewards were starting to feel insubstantial. But what more did I want out of life? What more was there? The only thing that quieted this strange dissatisfaction was . . . thinking about Lacey.
I let go of Sutton’s squishy face. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted or what to do about it. And even though Daniella had said everything was cool, I’d heard the edge of frustration in her voice. She’d really been hoping for some relief tonight. She downplayed her disappointment, trying not to make it my problem, because she wasn’t the manipulative type—but I could tell she wasn’t happy with me. And I couldn’t help but feel kind of shitty about disappointing her.
It was as though she sensed that, as my feelings for Lacey grew, my connection to her was fading—and that made Daniella want to cling to me even harder. I didn’t blame her. The idea that Lacey could represent the end of life as we knew it . . . that terrified me too. Daniella and I had been each other’s security blanket for so long, and change was scary, even when it might lead to something good.
I stood up. Enough of this bullshit. I needed to get off my ass and do something productive, and if that something was just to consume a fuck of a lot of whiskey, so be it. I needed advice too, and Daniella wasn’t the right person to ask. I also wanted to get out of the house to avoid the guilt trip I was sure was coming later.
I pulled out my phone and texted Greyson: You home yet? Want to get a drink at West’s?
When Greyson replied, Sure, I’m not doing anything tonight, I clipped Sutton’s leash onto his collar and went out. We should take advantage of the warm, breezy weather while it lasted, before the evenings got chilly.
I walked the few blocks to West’s, found a free table on the back patio, and tied Sutton to its umbrella pole. I ordered whiskey on the rocks for me and a bowl of water, which I set on the ground for Sutton. Greyson arrived a few minutes later, grunting a low “hey,” and ordered a beer.
After a few minutes of sipping our drinks in silence, I put down my tumbler. “I was hoping I could ask you something.”
“Really? And here I was, thinking we were just out on a nice date.” Greyson rested his chin on his fist. “I guess that means I’m paying for my own drinks tonight.”
“Screw you,” I replied without heat. “It’s about Lacey.”
Greyson sat back and raised his glass to his lips again, nodding in a silent go on.
I stared into my amber drink. “She’s all I think about, man. I want to see her all the time, make her smile. It’s making me wonder . . .” I let myself trail off because I sounded like a Grade-A pussy.
“Wonder what?”
I threw up one hand in exasperation. “That’s it, man. I don’t fucking know. Wonder about my life. Whether I’m going in the right direction.”
“So, what you’re saying is, you like her.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I generally don’t fuck women I hate.” Actually, I hadn’t fucked Lacey at all. We hadn’t gone that far yet. But somehow, I felt more from one of Lacey’s touches than I’d let myself feel in a very long time.
“I meant that things are starting to get real.” Greyson raised his eyebrows for emphasis.
“That . . . no. What? No way.” I huffed a little laugh that didn’t sound convincing, even to me. “You know me, right? The guy who’s never had a girlfriend for longer than a few months?”
“Yeah, I do know you. And that’s how I can tell what’s going on here.” Greyson flashed a smug grin that I immediately wanted to slap right off his face. The dipshit. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And Daniella says you’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been gossiping with my roommate? Are you a woman?”
“Shut up and listen. It’s obvious to everyone but you that you have feelings for Lacey.”
“It’s not—”
“Have you even wanted to fuck another woman since you started dating her?”
Giving up, I rubbed my forehead. Grey didn’t need to know how close to the truth he was. I’d been putting off Daniella’s advances for the past couple of weeks now, ever since Lacey had arrived in my life.
Despite what I already shared with Daniella, I couldn’t deny that I needed something more. Something more primitive. The kind of intimacy shared between two willing lovers. No ropes. No toys. Just two bodies fucking wildly. Moving together.
Was it selfish? Probably.
“Okay. Just for the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right. What should I do?”
“Sorry, man. I’m just here to shine a light on your shit. I can’t tell you how to handle it.”
“Well, what would you do?”
Greyson’s smirk slipped. “We’re not talking about me here,” he said, his voice a little icy. Then he quickly joked, “I’d fuck it up like always. But this is you. Whole different ball game.”
“Obviously. But can’t you just—” I stopped, at a loss for words again. I was getting tired of this confusion. “Give me something to go on here?”
“Hmm, I dunno.” Greyson picked up his glass again and took a sip. “I guess the main question is, do you want to get serious with Lacey?”
“But what does ‘serious’ even mean?” I snorted. “I’m not getting married, if that’s what—”
“Did I fucking say that? Christ.” Greyson gave me a look. “There’s plenty of room between ‘no strings attached’ and ‘buried together.’ Maybe you meet her parents. Maybe she moves in with you. Maybe you just set up a standing date every Friday night.” Greyson waved to indicate a wide world of commitment possibilities. “Just pick a step beyond where you are now and try imagining it. Do you like the picture you get? Then walk toward that future.”
I considered it as I polished off my last drops of whiskey. As unhelpful as Greyson’s plan sounded—and as much as I didn’t want to hear it—that idea was still better than anything I’d come up with.
Finally, I sighed. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Glad I could help.” Greyson gave me a satisfied nod. “And you should talk to Daniella later. She’ll probably have an opinion too.”
Oh shit. Daniella . . . and Lacey, at the same time. That hadn’t occurred to me. I knew how to juggle multiple casual partners, but having both a submissive and a steady girlfriend was a totally different matter. That wasn’t something I’d ever counted on. This was all supposed to be in the name of good fun, but once real feelings came into play . . .
Greyson was right. I had to figure out what I wanted before shit got really messy.
I’d always prided myself on my ability to develop multiple contingency plans; it was a damn necessity in my line of work. Yet I had no fucking clue what I was doing with Lacey.
Daniella made sense. I could provide her what she needed without ever risking myself, without ever getting in so deep that my heart could be ripped out. I never wanted to feel that sense of soul-crushing loss ever again.
So the question was . . . play it sa
fe, or take a risk?
Chapter Ten
Nolan
“I’ll get us another drink,” Lacey called from the kitchen. “Whiskey?”
We’d met at West’s for a drink after work, and then drinks turned into dinner, and now we were here, back at her place.
“Sure,” I replied, but something else had caught my attention. She had a record player on a desk in the hall.
I crossed the room and twisted the little knob on the side and soft music rose to life, something soulful and unexpected. A woman’s voice floated over deep notes of bass guitar.
It wasn’t familiar, and wasn’t anything like the music my parents had played at night when they thought I was in bed. I’d sneak down the stairs, sit on the bottom step, and watch them. Mom’s eyes would close as she rested her cheek on Dad’s shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips. They looked happy. Calm and at peace.
Damn. I felt a little pang in my chest; I missed those tender moments more than I’d care to admit.
Lacey came back, carrying a glass of white wine for herself and a whiskey on the rocks for me.
“Come here.” I offered her my hand. She set the drinks down on the coffee table and placed her palm in mine.
“What are you . . . ?” she began to ask, before a grin took hold of her lips and her question disappeared into the dimly lit room.
I placed my other hand against her trim waist. She sucked in her breath when I pulled her in nice and close. Maybe I was a little drunk. Maybe I was feeling sentimental. But if we were doing this, we might as well do it right.
“Do you know how to waltz?” I asked.
She smiled at me. “Not even a little. Show me?”
“Gladly.”
We swayed to the music, her chest brushing mine as we moved. Her pounding heart felt like hummingbird wings. One song faded into the next, and still I didn’t want to let her go. She smelled like sweet rain and peppermint, and I wanted more.
After several minutes, the record stopped, the player continuing to spin with soft crackles in the background.