Five Stars (Desire Island Series Book 5)

by Claire Thompson

  Adam laughed. “We’ll have to try it out here, first. I’m sure you’ll look incredible and sexy as hell. But then, you’d look sexy in a paper sack.”

  “Oh, stop,” Shani said, her laugh genuine. “You’re going to give me a big head.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Adam countered. “You’re a beautiful woman. You deserve to know that.”

  Following Shani’s sartorial lead, Adam put on a striped button-down shirt over blue jeans. Though he didn’t own a pair of cowboy boots, he made do with his black leather ankle boots.

  After a light breakfast in the hotel dining room, they headed out to the rental car. Adam could have eaten more, but Shani cautioned him that they would be greeted with a huge meal when they arrived at her mom’s place. “For Mama,” she said with a fond grin, “cooking is a form of love, and you eating everything she makes for you is your way of saying you love her back. Happily, she’s a fabulous cook.”

  It was an hour and a half drive to the reservation. As they headed out of Portland,

  Adam waited to see if Shani would bring up the nightmare, but she said nothing about it. Instead, she prattled on excitedly about seeing her mother and sisters again. Because it was Saturday, all of the sisters would be able to join them.

  Once on the highway, Shani quieted. She stared out the window, a pensive mood settling over her. Adam reached over and put his hand lightly on her denim-clad thigh.

  “You okay, Princess?”

  She turned to face him, her lips lifting into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. After a beat, she added, “Well. Mostly fine. I’m a little nervous, actually.”

  “About seeing your family?” Adam asked.

  “No, no. Not that. About tonight. About the Fetish Fair. About…” She paused and drew in a breath, as if fortifying herself. “About seeing someone who might be there. Someone I don’t want to see.”

  He waited for her to elaborate. He sensed she wanted to talk—to open up—but hadn’t quite found the courage. He wanted to help her, but he didn’t want to move with too much force. He needed to approach carefully, perhaps indirectly, until she was ready to offer more.

  After a while, when she said nothing more, he remarked casually, “That was some nightmare last night. It took a while to get you to wake up. You where thrashing and crying in your sleep. Can you remember what you were dreaming about that spooked you so bad?”

  “No,” she said abruptly.

  He glanced toward her. She was facing away from him, looking out her window. Adam was certain she was lying.

  “Shani,” he said softly. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But please don’t lie to me, Princess. There are no judgements here. Sometimes it helps to say things out loud, especially things we’ve been keeping secret. I sense this isn’t easy for you. But maybe if you can share this burden with me, whatever it is, I can help make it lighter.”

  She said nothing for a long while. He could feel both her sadness and her desire to open up, but also her fear. He kept his eyes on the road, determined to give her the space she needed.

  Her comment from the day before came back to him. “…They’re all very protective of me. I’ve made some unfortunate choices when it comes to men in the past. Well, one guy in particular. They don’t know the details, but they know he made me unhappy.”

  He glanced again in her direction. She continued to stare out the passenger window, her hands now twisting anxiously in her lap. Eventually, she began to speak. “I haven’t had the nightmare for a long time. I thought I was finally getting over it—that I’d put this all behind me. I guess coming back to Oregon has brought it all up again. And knowing he might be there tonight…” She trailed off.

  So that was it.

  Adam wanted to shout, “Who? Who might be there? And what the hell did that bastard do to you?” But he sensed if he reached out too aggressively, she would retreat once more into her shell. So he bit his lip and kept his mouth shut.

  To his relief, after a while, she continued, “It’s always the same nightmare, in some variation or another. I’m in the punishment box, or the timeout cage in the back closet. I’ve been there for a long time.” She was speaking in a strange, flat tone, as if all the feeling had been ironed out of it. But at least she was talking. “Suddenly the box lid lifts, or the closet door is yanked open. I’m blinded by the light as he pulls me out and upright. I can never remember what I did wrong, but it’s something that requires punishment. It’s for my own good,” she says, her voice finally cracking with emotion.

  “Princess,” Adam breathed softly, his heart breaking at the pain in her voice. “If this is too hard—”

  “No,” she said sharply. And then, in a gentler tone. “I want to tell you. I need to say this out loud. You’re right. I need to take away the sting, draw out the poison.”

  “Okay,” he said, keeping his face on the road. “Tell me. I’m listening.”

  She blew out a breath. “He hauls me to the whipping post or the rack or the restraint hook. He binds my body and my hair with rope. It hurts so much… I’m so afraid…” Her hand flew to her head, her fingers running over her shorn scalp.

  She shook her head vehemently. “That’s it. I don’t remember more. Just a feeling of terror. Of helplessness. Sometimes I know I’m dreaming and I try desperately to wake up. If I can only wake up.” Her voice was edged with panic.

  “And you do wake up,” Adam said quickly, reaching for her hand and gripping it tight. “You wake up and you recognize that it was just a bad dream. That you’re no longer with that horrible bastard who abused your trust and love. That you’ve made a new life for yourself that he will never be a part of. That you’re brave, strong and free now. Free to love a man who will cherish and protect you.”

  “Oh, Adam,” she said in a tremulous voice. “You’re so kind. But I’m afraid… Maybe I’m not so strong anymore. What if I’m… broken?”

  “I don’t believe that, Shani,” Adam asserted staunchly. “Not for a second. I’ve watched the way you comport yourself, both in and out of the scene. Yes, I sense you’re scarred, but also that you’re a survivor. And you’re courageous. A lot of people might have turned their backs on BDSM, but you stayed true to yourself. You wouldn’t let him take that away from you.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Then, louder and with more confidence, she asserted, “I couldn’t turn my back on BDSM. It’s too integral a part of me. To cut that out of my life would have been like excising a piece of my soul. I just needed a fresh start. A new job across the country, a new look…”

  She was talking now. That was good. She was opening up, bit by bit. Adam needed to find out what had really happened to her, not just in her nightmares. He needed to understand so he could help her heal.

  Her words still echoed in his mind: “He binds my body and my hair with rope. It hurts so much… I’m so afraid.”

  “I get that,” he said aloud. “A fresh start is good. I think it’s great you were able to do that. But I also get the sense you haven’t yet really been able to put the past behind you. You haven’t yet dealt with the pain, or the man who caused it.”

  When she said nothing to this, he plunged on. “Tell me the truth, Shani. Do those nightmares reflect real life? Why do you keep your hair so short? It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

  Her hand flew again to her shorn scalp. “Yes,” she admitted in a low, strangled voice.

  “That fucking bastard,” Adam swore, gripping the steering wheel hard. “Any man who abuses a woman is a coward and a bully, not to mention a criminal. He violated your trust and the sacred tenets of BDSM.”

  He blew out a breath, forcing himself back under control. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to make things worse by losing my temper over this guy. Tell me what happened. Tell me why you felt the need to cut your hair.”

  “It was that last time. I had to get away…”

  Again the long pau
se, while Adam gritted his teeth to keep his big mouth shut.

  Eventually, she picked up the thread again. “He used my hair during bondage sessions. I had very long hair back then—all my life, in fact. The hair bondage was sexy at first—being restrained in a different way. But toward the end… When I had lost myself, when I’d forgotten who I was, it wasn’t sexy anymore. That last time…” She trailed off again, her hands twisting wildly in her lap, her face a frightened mask of anxiety and pain.

  A rush of different emotions clashed in Adam’s brain. Who the hell was he to press this woman, to open wounds that clearly hadn’t healed? At the same time, he recognized that wounds that had been hidden and ignored could never fully heal. Until she could face her pain and sorrow, her wound would continue to fester and chafe in her soul, preventing her from any kind of real recovery.

  He pulled the car over onto the shoulder beside a field of yellow and purple wildflowers, though he left the engine running. The early morning clouds had cleared and the sky was a brilliant blue. Shani rolled down her window and inhaled deeply. “I’d forgotten how fresh and clear the air is here. I’ve missed this place. More than I realized.”

  Adam unbuckled his seatbelt and reached over, gently turning Shani’s head so she was facing him. Leaning toward her, he took her face in his hands and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  Letting her go, he said, “It’s time, Princess. Tell me what happened. Whatever it was, you’re here now. You got away. You’re strong and brave. It’s time to stop giving that man so much power over you. It’s time you kicked the bastard out of your head once and for all.”

  The frightened rabbit look fell away as Shani lifted her chin, determination now in her gaze. “You’re right. It’s well past time. I’m ready now. Ready to tell you. Ready to put this behind me, once and for all.”

  Chapter 8

  Shani shook her head, snorting softly. “It was only one month. One lousy little month that completely changed the trajectory of my life. I let him chase me away from my family and my home. While I’ve been very happy on Desire Island, I can’t deny that my initial motivation was to get away from Sir and Portland, as fast and as far as I could.”

  She reached for Adam’s hand, giving it a strong squeeze, her expression resolved, almost fierce. “Okay. I’m going to finish this. It’s good to say it out loud after keeping it secret for so long.” She took another breath, and said, “That last time, something finally snapped in me. The crazy thing is, how long it took me to get there.”

  She laughed a bitter laugh. “It’s so easy to see now, with the advantage of time and distance, but while I was in the middle of it, it wasn’t so clear. The man wasn’t a Master. He was an abusive fuck. I think he was terrified of me on some level. Maybe of women in general. And he’d found a way to deal with his fears by dominating submissive women like me who were stupid enough to fall for his outward charm and seductive ways.”

  Now that she was talking, it was as if a spigot had been opened, and the words came tumbling out. Adam kept quiet, his eyes fixed on her face.

  “The ironic thing was, I’d never had a strong-held fantasy of being in a Master/slave relationship. I adore bondage and erotic pain. I love the theater of submission and being dominated by a strong, confident man.” Her face softened as she met Adam’s gaze. “A man like you,” she said almost shyly, making his heart clutch with tenderness.

  “But Sir—” She broke off abruptly with a sharp shake of her head. “No. Not Sir. He doesn’t deserve that title, though he made me call him that. Brandon. That was his name. Brandon Parker. We met at one of those munch things that BDSM groups sometimes put on. He was good looking, in an All-American big beefy blond kind of way, and he was a smooth talker. He invited me to a BDSM club the next weekend, and we hit it off well. He was skilled as a Dom and the scenes were hot and sexy.

  “I had just been laid off from my job as a sales clerk at a little clothing boutique and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next. My lease was up on my apartment and my car was on its last legs, or should I say wheels.”

  She grinned and Adam grinned back, glad she was smiling now, though the pain was still in her eyes.

  “He had a lot of money and his own house,” she continued. “Somehow, he convinced me, though we’d known each other all of a week or so, to move in with him. At first, it was actually pretty great. His house had three bedrooms, and he even gave me my own bedroom, claiming we could work up to something more intimate, if it seemed right for us. And if not, he was just glad to give me a hand up while I looked for a new job.

  “We became lovers, because, why not? He was super attentive and kind—at first. He had a full BDSM dungeon in his basement. When he brought up the idea of us becoming Master and slave, I resisted at first. But he made it sound so sexy and compelling that I thought, what the heck. It would be cool to try it—just as an experiment. And if it didn’t feel right, we’d stop.”

  She blew out a breath and lifted her chin again in that determined way. “For a week or so, I enjoyed it. I mean, there were some aspects I found annoying, like not being allowed to sit on the furniture or feed myself. I know that’s super-hot for some people, but it just never floated my particular boat. But he was really into it, so I went along with it.

  “Things started to ratchet up, slowly at first. I was now sleeping in his bed, and he introduced the idea of cuffing me at night to remind me of my place as his slave girl. Then he started making me sleep at the foot of the bed, which I didn’t like, but again, went along with.

  “He worked from home as an editor for a large publishing house, so he was always there. He apparently got his money from a family trust, and didn’t really have to work. But he liked to keep busy, he told me, and he was good at taking the crap his writers dished out and turning it into something palatable—his words.

  “He discouraged me from looking for a new job, telling me my job was now solely to serve and please him. It was starting to feel less sexy, but it was nice being taken care of financially. And he actually was a very good lover—super attentive and generous in bed, always concerned with my orgasm and with pleasing me sexually.

  “Anyway, he started giving me very specific tasks around the house that I was to complete while he was working. Things like clean the master bath until every inch of it was sparkling, but I had to do it while hobbled with a chain between my ankles and armed with only a toothbrush and a wet rag. He would inspect my work and always find something wrong with it.

  “What started out as what I thought of as sexy, playful punishments began to turn to something darker. He would really hurt me sometimes, not in a good way. But afterward he was always so solicitous and kind. He would bring me huge bouquets of flowers and big boxes of fancy chocolates. He would massage my feet and put soothing balm over the welts and bruises. He would cook lavish meals and feed me along with himself, always with a bottle or two of fine wine to go with the food.”

  She paused again, staring out at the field of flowers, slowly shaking her head.

  “I don’t really know how to explain it—how I let things go so far. It’s almost like I was hypnotized, or like those kidnap victims who start identifying with their captors. I was always kept in a state of erotic excitement and fear. He was a very powerful guy—very charismatic and controlling, and he played into my natural submissive tendencies and desire to please him.

  “But after a while, I didn’t seem able to please him anymore, no matter how hard I tried. I lost ‘privileges.’ I was no longer permitted to leave the house without him, or to make any decisions about my future or finances. He kept me cuffed and chained when he wasn’t using me. The punishments became more frequent and harsher. I started spending a lot of time in the punishment box under the bed—”

  “Jesus, Shani,” Adam blurted in horror, despite his promise to himself to remain quiet. “That fucking asshole.” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just want to kill t
his guy.”

  “I know,” she said, managing a small smile. “Me, too. It’s embarrassing to admit this stuff to you. It’s like my spirit left me for a while. I forgot I was Shani, one of the five noble warrior princesses in the sky.”

  “You were…what?” Adam asked, not sure he’d heard correctly.

  Shani laughed. “It’s a story my mom used to tell us when we were little. She used to make up stories for us all the time, because we didn’t have a TV or a computer or anything. This one she swore was an old Native American folktale, though I never found reference to it when I did some research. But that didn’t really matter. We believed it as kids, and it gave us a sense of empowerment.”

  “Tell me,” Adam said, sensing Shani needed a break from relating the awful story of “Sir.”

  “It was about these five powerful sisters who fought battles against bad people trying to steal the land and the water their tribe had always lived on. The brave warrior women saved their people with strength and cunning. Of course, in the story, their names were Kaiah, Malia, Shani, Yareli and Chenoa, just like us.

  “We loved the story and we made her tell it to us a hundred times. We would play noble warrior princess games and we used to fight over who got to be the most heroic and helpful to her people. In the story, the noble sisters were so loved and admired that even the gods revered them. And when they left this earthly plane, they took their places up in the sky as five stars to shine down and give my people guidance when they’re lost.”

  “That’s a great story,” Adam said, delighted. “So, you really are a noble princess, Princess,” he added with a grin. “A warrior who found a way out of a bad situation.”

  “Yeah,” Shani said, the smile falling away from her face. “I still can’t believe I put up with it as long as I did. How could I have been so fucking stupid to let it happen?”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over that,” Adam said emphatically. “Abusive situations often happen like this. It starts slowly and you get sucked into a pattern of behavior it’s hard to break free of. Especially when you’re financially and emotionally dependent on someone. But what’s most important is that you did get away, Shani. Tell me how you did that. How you got yourself free.”