Bonds of Hope

by Lynda Aicher

  He chuckled and finally set the brush down. “Go back to bed. I’ll grab the cream.”

  She didn’t move. “Bed?”

  “It’s after one in the morning.” He nudged her toward to bedroom. “I’m not sending you home now.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He turned her around and tilted her chin up as he leaned down. “You’re arguing again. It’s late. You’re tired. Stay.”

  She wondered if he ever got tired of always being right. Too exhausted to protest further, she did as he said. She shuffled from the bathroom and dropped her towel to crawl into his bed.

  She hadn’t spent the entire night with that many men, and sleeping next to Marcus all night was entirely too enticing. She had no desire to be the next Hollywood child star gone wild, and it didn’t take much for the tabloids to make that happen.

  “Roll over on your stomach,” he said as he came into the room.

  She obeyed, tucking a pillow beneath her head as she did. The cream was cold at first and she clenched and tensed while he rubbed it in.

  “Tomorrow night, we’ll cover more straight dominance and submission,” he told her.

  Oh, yeah. She was supposed to come back to the club. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll be too sore for any masochistic play. But obedience can always be taught.”

  Now that didn’t sound all that exciting. “Yes, sir.” The sarcasm couldn’t be missed. Neither could the swat to her bottom.

  “Behave, brat.”

  She sucked in a sharp hiss of air and buried her face in the pillow. All kinds of not-so-submissive thoughts ran through her mind as she waited for the pain to fade once again. She kept them to herself because voicing them would only reinforce his brat description.

  He fiddled at her nape and it took her a moment to realize what he was doing. The collar slid from her neck and she resisted the urge to grab it back. Her skin was damp where the leather had been and the chill circled her neck in an instant reminder of what was missing. “Why are you taking it off?”

  “It’s wet. It’ll get itchy.”

  It was nice of him to think of that, yet she almost wished he hadn’t.

  The bed shifted as he got up. The water ran in the bathroom before the light clicked off and the bed dipped with his return. “Come here, Quinn.”

  She contemplated refusing. The bed was king-sized so they could sleep all night without touching each other. Instead, she found herself rolling over and curling into his side. He hugged her close, and her sigh escaped without warrant.

  Her eyes dropped closed, her breath leveled out and she relaxed again. It was just too comfortable in his arms. No matter what he was doing to or with her, he always managed to make her feel safe. And she wasn’t ready to lose that, not when it was being so openly offered.

  She traced a lazy path over his chest, the small hairs tickling her fingers as she played. “How come you used a dildo?” she finally asked, uncertain if he was still awake. She’d been coherent enough to understand when he’d told her it wasn’t him inside her.

  “We haven’t talked about intercourse.” His voice had gotten softer, tired. “I won’t do that without your prior agreement.”

  “But I didn’t mark it as off limits on my list.” Why, she didn’t know. Okay, maybe she did. He was pretty darn gorgeous after all. So it still confused her. Doms were supposed to demand and take what they wanted from a sub.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He rubbed her arm and yawned. “I don’t take what isn’t discussed beforehand. This session was about experimentation for you. That was all.”

  “See,” she huffed. “Confusing.”

  “Go to sleep, Quinn. Things will be clearer in the morning.”

  She doubted that, but it sounded like a good suggestion. So once again, she listened to her Dom, closed her eyes and let the sound of his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  The light was filtering in around the edge of the blackout curtains to paint the room in a dull gray when Marcus woke. He fumbled for his phone and checked the time. Damn, it was too early. Of course, he usually didn’t hit his bed before four in the morning.

  Quinn’s warm body was still pressed to his side and his arm had gone numb from his shoulder down to his fingers. It ached and was probably why he was awake. He couldn’t be mad though. She was a hell of a nice thing to wake up to.

  One of her legs curled between his and her arm was stretched over his chest in the lax sprawl of the content. Her breath ghosted over his chest. The light tease puckered his nipple now that he was aware of it and did nothing to lessen his morning wood. Christ, he wanted to roll her over and wake her up in the most sensual, delicious way.

  He rubbed his eyes and willed his control to the foreground. It didn’t matter if she was naked in his bed. He couldn’t take her. Not yet. He didn’t think she’d object, but he wasn’t in the habit of taking advantage of people and there seemed to be too many people who already did that to Quinn.

  He slowly eased out from under her and shook the pins and needles out of his arm as the blood rushed back to the appendage. He rummaged in a box for a T-shirt and tossed it on the end of the bed then crept out of the room. The blast of sunlight in the guest room temporarily blinded him and he stumbled over a box, swore then hopped the rest of the way to the bathroom before the throbbing faded in his toe. At least that took care of his morning wood.

  In his infinite wisdom, he’d crammed a lot of his boxes into the unused guest room to get them out of the way. That also meant out of sight out of mind, which was why they were still mostly unpacked. It could also mean he really didn’t need any of the crap that was in them. He’d officially moved in three weeks ago and he’d only managed to unpack the essentials.

  Finishing in the bathroom, he trudged to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. The coffee maker had been on the top of his essential list. He leaned against the counter and stared blankly out the window over the sink. It looked like it was going to be another gorgeous fall day.

  I wonder if Quinn has plans today. He shook his head at the thought, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. He wasn’t stupid and didn’t plan on pretending to be now. Quinn had waltzed into his life on a red carpet and a leash and captured his attention from the second he’d seen her. She’d had him cold the first time he’d found her kneeling in wait for him.

  He wasn’t afraid to admit that he wanted Quinn. Now he had to figure out how to keep her. The contract wasn’t nearly long enough. He already knew that as a fact.

  He poured a cup of coffee and wandered over to plunk down on the leather couch. Jake had left most of his furniture and since it was loads nicer than his own, Marcus had passed his down to his little brother, who’d gladly taken it off his hands.

  He propped his feet on coffee table and took a sip of his steaming brew. Time to contemplate Quinn. Like usual, the worn football lying on the end of the couch found its way into his free hand. The leather was rough with wear and he automatically spun it around until the threads fit between his fingers. It scratched against his palm in soothing familiarity as he tapped it on the couch, the soft pat of leather on leather beating a rhythm to his thoughts.

  Last night had been beyond anything he’d anticipated or expected. He was too experienced as a Dom to blow the night off as a common event. He’d never been so enthralled or empowered during a Scene. There was something special growing between them. He wanted it too. No running away in denial for him. A man didn’t get what he wanted by refusing to acknowledge it.

  Of course, there was the major complication that she lived in California. He didn’t even know how long she was staying in Minneapolis. The reminder that she’d be returning to complete the job she was here training for brought a serious scowl to his face. It might be an acting role, but the idea of Quinn being with another man under any circumstance didn’t sit well with him. As he’d told her that first day, Doms were a possessive lot. He was no different.

  T
he toilet flushed, and he smiled at the simple sound. Quinn was awake. How would she react this morning? Her confusion last night was understandable, but he didn’t want it to linger.

  The door creaked, and Quinn shuffled out of the bedroom. His T-shirt hung down to her knees, the neck scooping wide enough to fall off one shoulder. She’d never looked tinier. Her long hair tumbled around her shoulders and the white strands seemed to glow when she passed through a sliver of sunlight streaming through the window.

  “Morning,” she said, rubbing her eyes before covering a yawn. “Is that coffee I smell?”

  “Yup.” He rose and headed to the kitchen. “Do you like sugar or creamer in it?”

  “Both if you have them.”

  “Have a seat.” He motioned to the couch he’d just vacated. “I’ll bring it over.” He dug another mug out of the cupboard and checked it for dust. It looked clean enough. He watched her roam around the room as he added the creamer and sugar to her cup then poured in the coffee. “Obviously, I’m still moving in,” he told her. Open boxes sat by the entertainment center, DVDs and video games spilling around them.

  “Wouldn’t have guessed that,” she quipped as she crouched to survey the movies.

  He topped off his own mug and brought both of them back to the living area. “Now who’s being sarcastic?”

  She raised a brow. “It was duly earned.”

  “Duly earned, huh?” He extended her coffee and she rose to take it. The small wince she made at the movement forced him to hide his grin behind his own mug. “Just like the spanking you’re earning now?”

  “What?” Her mouth gaped, the surprise forcing her eyes wide.

  He laughed and took a seat. “Gotcha.”

  “Not funny.” Her lips thinned, but he caught her smile before she took a drink of her coffee.

  He set his mug down and crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”

  His stomach clenched, the pleasure warming him when she did as he asked. She stopped in front of him, and he grabbed her hips and spun her around.

  “Hey,” she squawked. “Watch the coffee.”

  He didn’t care about the coffee. What he wanted to see was under her shirt. He lifted the hem to expose her cute little ass. His inhale was sharp and sucked though his nose with a force that matched his pleasure.

  She snapped her head around and peered at him over her shoulder. “What?”

  How did he explain it to her? He held the material up with one hand while he smoothed his other over the rounded curve of each cheek. Centered on the high arch of each one was a deep purple and red rectangular bruise. The welts had receded, along with the pink-skinned leftovers from the flogging, leaving behind the two beautiful marks.

  “These,” he finally answered, pressing lightly on each bruise until her muscles clench.

  “Ow. Careful.”

  “No one will know about these except you and me. Every time you sit down, you’ll be reminded of who gave them to you.” He leaned in and kissed one of the perfect marks. He could not stop doing that. “Of how you got them.” He kissed the other. “And who you belong to.”

  “And who’s that?”

  His gaze shot up to meet her saucy challenge. “You know who, brat.”

  “Huh.” She turned her head away from him and sipped her coffee. “Well, those marks better be gone soon, because that ownership of yours expires on Sunday.”

  That’s what she thinks. “Oh, kitten. I’m going to own you so good you won’t want to leave.”

  That sounded like a cheap movie line, but he caught the small tremble that ran down her body into his palms. She could play cool, but he knew better. He tugged her back until she sank onto his lap.

  She twisted sideways to lean against some pillows and study him over her coffee mug. “And here I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  Her eyelids lowered and she stared at the insurance logo plastered on the side of the mug for a moment. “You didn’t seem too impressed with me the first few times we met.”

  There was a vulnerability there that he didn’t like. An insecurity coming from someone everyone expected to be filled with confidence. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live in the public eye most of your life. Growing up under the constant scrutiny of millions would be rough. He’d had his fill of it on the football field and that hardly compared.

  “Quinn.” He waited for her to meet his eyes. “I was very impressed by you. I still am.”

  “Why?” Her mouth clamped shut as soon as the question was out. “Never mind.” She shook her head. “That sounds pathetic.”

  He took her mug from her tight grip and set it next to his own on the coffee table. She watched him with leery eyes as he cupped her jaw and leaned in to kiss her. Her sigh was soft and her lips parted willingly to let him in. The coffee taste on her tongue merged with his own until the bitter turned sweet with the heat.

  He nipped her tongue before sucking it in to play, and her fingers plowed through his hair to hold him closer. It was a slow, lazy kiss, one that took the time to search out all of the nooks and crannies of each other’s mouths while slowly going deeper.

  His wood was back, his dick enjoying the kiss as much as his mouth was. She moaned, a soft sound that had him stretching out on the couch so he could wrap his leg around her and pull her tight to his chest. Not once did they break the kiss.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made out with a girl on the couch. College, maybe? It was nice. Intimate in a totally different way, and he wanted to keep on kissing her all morning. Her lips were silky soft, her tongue quick and playful. Like her.

  He rubbed his palm over her back, down her side, up her leg. He couldn’t stop touching her. Feeling her. His dick was thick and heavy where it rubbed on her thigh, every touch from her mouth and hands stirring his need higher.

  Eventually, he eased back. They were both a little short of air and her nipples rubbed hard and pointy on his chest with each tight breath. The cotton shirt was too thin to hide her arousal, just like his pants were too thin to hide his.

  He ran his fingers through her silky hair. “How long are you staying in Minneapolis?”

  She searched his eyes. Their faces were so close he could see every shade as it transitioned from blue to green in her irises. “I head back in a week and a half.”

  He kept the frown from showing on his face. It wasn’t much time, but he could work with it. “You have plans for today?”

  She licked her lips, the tip of her tongue tempting him back for another kiss. “I was thinking of giving my brother a call.”

  “Yeah? I thought you’d have done that when you got into town.”

  “It’s not that simple.” She dropped her gaze to stare at his chin as her fingers rubbed distractedly over the bristle of his beard. “We’re pretty much strangers,” she finally admitted.

  “That must be hard.” He couldn’t imagine not having his brother around. With only two years between them, they’d been close his entire life.

  “I don’t know.” She gave a small shrug. “I missed him when our parents first separated us. But after a while, the hurt faded.” She looked up. “That’s one of the reasons why I wanted to come here. Not that my mom knows that. She couldn’t understand why I’d want to come to Minnesota.”

  He frowned. “Didn’t she miss her son? And what about your dad?”

  “Apparently, part of their divorce agreement was they each got the kid they cared about.”

  There was no shock to how parents could harm their kids. He hugged her close, his heart going out to her. “I’m sure there’s more to it than that. Have you ever talked to your parents about it?”

  She tucked her head under his chin and played distractedly with his chest hairs. “Mom shut me down whenever I brought it up. By the time I got old enough to call my dad on my own, I no longer knew what to say. My teenage mind figured he would’ve called more if he really missed me.
”

  “And I bet your brother feels the same way about your mother.” He was guessing, but it was a solid possibility, given the situation.

  “That’s what I want to find out.” She sighed. “Don’t I sound like the clichéd, screwed-up Hollywood story?”

  He kissed her temple, willing her to feel his empathy. “I’ve heard worse.” He gave her butt a light tap. “Let’s get dressed and find some breakfast before I take you home.”

  Her hips arched into his erection. “Watch it,” she chastised. “Or I’ll start swatting that hard thing of yours that’s poking me.”

  Laughing, he pushed her up until they were both sitting again. “No you won’t, kitten. You’re too sweet for that.”

  “But this kitten still has her claws.” She curled her fingers in a fake cat attack before she grabbed her coffee mug and took it to the kitchen.

  He watched the jaunty sway of her ass as she strutted away and had to bite his cheek to hold in his laughter. Seeing this fiery side of her made her submission to him all the more potent.

  “Hey, Quinn,” he called as he went to gather her clothes that he’d dropped on a box by the front door. Tyler had been downright smug when he’d brought her things up last night. Seemed like everyone in the club knew what was going with him and Quinn. “Where do you want to go for breakfast?”

  “I don’t care.” She shrugged and glanced over her shoulder from where she was pouring a second cup of coffee.

  “Do you think the morning IHOP crowd will mind this outfit?” He lifted her club clothes up and worked to keep his face straight.

  Her lips thinned and she turned her back to him. “Make that McDonald’s drive-thru.”

  He let his laugh boom and crossed the room to set her belongings on the island bar. “When’s the last time you had McDonald’s?”

  She turned to him and struck a pose of thought. “That would be...probably...six years ago?”

  “Oh, Quinn.” He shook his head. “You have missed so much. It’s a good thing you have me around to spoil you rotten.”

  She snorted. “You consider McDonald’s spoiling me?”