by Dee Palmer
“Yes.” I am basking in the glare of dangerous desire that Joel is levelling on me. I have to bite back a playful grin by dragging my bottom lip through my teeth.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
I reply without hesitation. “Yes.” With my life.
“Safe word?”
“Banana hammock,” I respond with a serious expression, which I hold right up until he smirks and chuckles.
“That will make me laugh.” he taps my nose.
“Which will also work as a safe word then. I can’t see you carrying on if you’re laughing.”
“True.” He rolls off of me and rests his head on his hand; his long lean body stretches almost to the foot of this enormous bed. I’m tempted to jump him now, he looks so damn good. If I didn’t know how unbelievably amazing he makes me feel when we play like this, I would, but since we don’t do this often, I’m going to resist.
“You have one minute.” He looks at his watch.
“And I can go anywhere?” I ask
“Fifty seconds,”
“Nothing’s off limits I mean? I can go outside?” I ask quickly, not really taking in that the countdown has started. Surely there are some caveats, rules—
“Forty.”
“Fuck, Joel” I leap off of the bed and sprint from the bedroom to the echo of his deep throaty laugh. My heart is already set to explode, it’s beating so fast. I race along the landing and down the stairs; my tight grip on the rail prevents me falling, as my feet slip with the speed I’m taking the last few steps. I steady myself, looking left and right, trying to remember the layout of this cavernous cabin from the whirlwind tour Joel gave me.
I need to hide.
I slip my sneakers off and move barefoot as I silently scurry deeper into the house. There is a vast split-level lounge with several doors, and I pick one. It leads to a long dark corridor that illuminates with my first step. I freeze when I hear heavy footsteps above me. Fear mixes with erotic fantasies and drives me forward. Adrenaline saturates my veins and pumps my heart until it beats so loudly, I swear it’s like a siren call to Joel.
He’s coming for me.
I silently open the door at the end of the corridor and enter what looks like a second smaller lounge with sunken sofas, a large flat screen TV and a wall of built-in cupboards. I race along the wall, pulling at handles until I find one that is just my size. I rush back to the door and flick the light switch off. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the sudden complete darkness; however, approaching footsteps make me lurch forward and hurriedly feel my way to the cupboard door I had left open. I climb inside and close the door quietly behind me just as I hear the click of the room door handle.
I imagine the sound of Joel’s deep, heaving breaths, since the blood rushing in my ears is deafening, and it’s all I can hear. I hope the thumping in my chest and my own shallow panting isn’t going to give me away. A fine line of bright light illuminates the outline of the door to the cupboard I am currently crammed into. I can feel my chest tighten and have to use a meditation technique to calm my rocketing pulse; slow, silent breaths in and out of my nose focus my mind and instantly ease the panic. I’m not great with small spaces, and I have to challenge the wisdom of picking this as a hiding spot when there’s a whole damn wilderness just outside the front door.
The silence is broken with the sound of his slow steps into the room. He hums absently, and I can just picture his narrow eyes taking in the room for any sign of disturbance. He walks past me and my breath freezes in my lungs, even my heart stops beating as a million terrified tingles dance the surface of my skin. I count his steps until they become faint and then stop. The door opens, darkness falls, and I exhale at the final suction sound of the door sealing shut. I don’t move. I’ve seen the movies and screamed at the screen for the heroine to just stay hidden. I leave it a good ten minutes before I tentatively push the door open and climb out of the cupboard. I feel my way along the units until I get to the wall, and when I recognise the light switch, I flick it on.
“Ahhh!” My lungs burn with the scream that rips from me at an ear piercing volume. Joel is right there, his back against the door preventing my escape, and before I can draw in another breath and scream again, his hand covers my mouth, and he slams his full weight against me, pinning me up against the wall.
It’s on.
I grunt against his palm, and my hands fly to his arm, trying to pull it away from my face. His eyes shine with a dark desire I know matches my own. I can feel every inch of his hard body against mine, and I yearn for his touch…his rough and painful touch. I struggle against his ironclad grip. His body feels like an impenetrable wall of muscle. My strength is no match, and I don’t really want to kick him in the balls or gouge his eyes out, which I wouldn’t hesitate to do if this was a real attack; however, I also don’t want to make it too easy. I let my body go heavy, limp, and like liquid, I pool to the floor, slipping through his grip. I’m quick and dart across the floor, using the sofas as a natural separator.
“You scared the crap out of me.” I bounce on my toes as he smiles and stalks toward me, stepping with determination around the sofa. I retreat step for step keeping the distance. It’s not enough; I need to get to the door.
“I know,” he says and fake lurches forward, making me nearly jump out of my skin. Asshole.
“How did you know I was hiding in here? I didn’t make a sound.” I glance toward the door, and he arches a comical brow and waves his arm in that direction as if offering an open invitation for me to make that move. I don’t bite.
“I could smell you,” he replies, drawing a deep and heady breath that makes his chest rumble with pleasure. He briefly closes his eyes, and despite that being the perfect opportunity to make my escape, I find I am captivated by his aura. When he opens his eyes, he fixes on me like there is not another soul on the planet, and I feel him everywhere. “You’re intoxicating when you’re terrified, Regan, like now. Your scared rabbit heart calls to me. Your scent drenches my senses. I’m going to devour you.”
“You don’t scare me,” I bluff…I think.
“Yes, I do, but do you want to know a secret?”
“Yes,”
“Not as much as you scare me.”
“I know what you’re doing.” This conversation momentarily intrigues me. It’s different, and I’m almost taken in, when I see his lips carve a wicked smile. He’s playing me, and the distraction almost worked.
“Is it working?” He leaps over the back of the sofa before he finishes his sentence and before I can react. He wrestles me to the floor, and I’m fighting every inch of the way for long exhausting minutes of endless moves and counter moves, wriggling, bucking, and screaming blue murder. I reluctantly accept defeat. His legs pin mine wide and flat to the floor, my arms are stretched above my head, both hands held tight in one of his. His wild feral eyes devour me just before his mouth crashes to mine. His tongue dives and dominates, swirling with mine, tasting, and taking the very breath from my lungs. He breaks the kiss, and I cry out, teeth gritted, fighting mad and crazily turned on.
“Stop.”
“No.”
“Don’t,” I say feeling the turmoil of the game even as the thrill excites me to ends I never dreamed, Consensual non-consent. He sits up, moves me so he has my hands pinned to my side, trapped between his legs and my own body. He’s like a vise. His glare darkens, and his throat moves slowly as he swallows. His tongue wipes a wet path across his bottom lip as he places his hand around my throat, and I swear, I nearly come right there. I’m a freak…we’re freaks.
“Beg me,” he demands.
“Please don’t do this.” I swallow, and the muscles in my throat fight against the increasing restriction of his firm fingers.
“Oh, you can do better than that,” he goads.
I struggle, but only for a second as he squeezes. Dark dots flit across my vision, and I freeze. He keeps his hand on my throat while the other rips at my clothes and his, unti
l we are both not quite naked, but there is just enough access to satisfy the need that consumes us both. His skin touches mine, and I burn. The heat of his heavy cock is molten as it slides along my soaking entrance. There’s no gentleness, no hesitation as he lunges inside me, every thick inch to the hilt. At the same time, he squeezes his fist a little tighter, and my body detonates. Erotic euphoria obliterates me. Every fibre, every nerve ending explodes into a brilliance of a billion tiny lights and unbelievable sensations bombard me even as the darkness pulls me under.
I drift and fall for endless moments, vaguely cognisant of being moved, stroked, kissed, and tied. My eyelids flutter with the effort to open them. My body trembles with he aftermath of an orgasm that I felt shake my very soul.
“Here, drink this.” He holds a chilled bottle of water to my lips, and I take a sip. He smiles wide and wicked, and I shiver with the knowledge of what’s still to come.
“Thank you.” He wipes the stray drops of water from my lips and replaces the cap on the bottle.
“You’re very welcome. How are you feeling?” Stroking my face with his fingers, his eyes hold a wealth of concern that I quickly ease with a bright and wanton smile.
“So good, restricted, but very, very good.” I’m bent over a tall padded stool with a large square seat, my arms are tied behind my back with some intricate rope work, no doubt. Although I can’t quite see, Joel prides himself in the detail. My ankles are strapped wide and equally secure to the legs of the stool. I’m happier with my current predicament than I am with the speed at which he captured me in the first place. “I can’t believe you found me so quickly.”
“It was a good hiding spot.” He walks around me, appraising his work with an appreciative hum. His fingers dance lightly on my skin, slipping under the rope and checking for pinch marks now that I am completely naked.
“Obviously,” I snort sarcastically. I wonder if he even looked anywhere else, or whether my ‘scent’ left a trail like the yellow brick road.
“Don’t beat yourself up, Reggie…that’s my job.” His finger traces the length of my spine to the curve of my arse cheek. Where he lifts his hand and strikes down with a full swing of his arm.
“Ah!” I cry out with shock. The pain ignites a fire in my belly that makes my eyes roll with sublime pleasure. “Son of a bitch.” The words come out of nowhere.
“True, but how about you count instead of giving supposed insults,” he retorts with a wry smile, his fingers smoothing the sting against his other hand.
“How many?” I ask. Waiting on the promised magic number, I let the anticipation wash over me like a sensual wave of bliss.
“It rarely matters, Reggie, whatever I say, you always beg for more.” True.
“How far is it to the nearest town?” I gaze around at the surrounding landscape, marvelling at the wild beauty of Joel’s lake from the unique vantage point of the small boat he’s rowing. He owns the lake and the rest of the land that edges the national park, which, as far as I can gather, covers an area roughly the size of the county I grew up in.
“We’re pretty isolated here. It’s a good forty-minute drive to civilisation. Which is lucky, because those bruises are angry.” His eyes drop to the red marks just above my collarbone.
“I like when you mark me.” I absently rub the soft tissue at the side of my neck. His fingerprints were clearly visible this morning but are actually already fading. The ones on my bottom will thankfully last all week.
“I like it too, but I’m not sure your friends would approve.”
“Harper’s not your biggest fan to start with, so no, even if she did understand, I’m not the type to show them off. These are for me. Does that make me weird, a freak?”
“If it does, you’re not alone.” A knowing grin spreads across his face and his eyes light with mischief as he heaves the oars effortlessly through the glassy, clear, icy water. The gentle lapping sound of water sloshing and swirling is hypnotic, and I drop my head back, close my eyes, and soak up the warmth from the sun. I love living near a city. Still, in this idyllic moment, I believe I could get used to the wilderness. With a well-stocked cabin, and Joel to hunt and gather, isolation doesn’t sound so bad.
“How long would it take to walk in to town?”
“I wouldn’t recommend walking.” He sniffs with a dry laugh.
“I like walking.” I lift my head, squinting against the glare of the sun directly behind Joel.
“Yes, babe, but you got lost trying to find the kitchen. You’d die out here in the wild.” He arches a brow, and his tone couldn’t be more condescending if he tried.
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think, and besides, the cabin has a really confusing layout,” I indignantly retort, even if I did in fact get a little lost.
“I’m not being dramatic, people die out here all the time.”
“Bears?”
“Stupidity, mostly, but there are bears. It’s about respecting your environment and being prepared. If you want to go walking, we can do that, but we’ll be prepared if we do.”
“No, I’m fine, I like the rowboat.” I flash a bright smile and assume my sun worshipping position.
“Because I’m doing all the rowing?”
“Mostly that, yes, and I get to watch all that manliness in action, which I couldn’t do if I was rowing,” I point out with a smart ass, knowing wink.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I think you’ve already been everywhere.”
“Yeah, I have.” His voice drops, and the deep throaty sound rakes sensually across my skin like fingernails, and I shiver. “Ready to take a dip?” he asks, and I laugh out loud.
“Oh, wait, you’re serious? In that case, no. No way, it’s freezing.” If my tone doesn’t sound incredulous, I’m sure my expression of jaw dropped in utter disbelief clarifies my position.
“You said it looked tempting.”
“That’s before I put my hand in, and my fingers nearly snapped off.”
“It will be fine once you’re in.” He slips his sweater over his head and kicks his sneakers off. His eyes dart from the water to me, his lips quirk, and he tilts his head as if drawing some evil conclusion that has little to do with having his wicked way with me. Shit.
“Please don’t.” I shuffle back as far as the boat will allow.
“Don’t what?” His nonchalant tone doesn’t fool me for a second.
“That look right there. Please don’t think it’s going to be remotely funny to throw me in the water. I hate getting cold.” I swallow thickly, recognising the determination in his expression.
“And yet you live in Chicago, not unknown for its harsh winters and wind, hmm?” He stands, and I grip the edge of the boat as it wobbles wildly with the sudden shift in weight.
“No!” I squeal when he steps into the centre of the boat and way too close to me.
“Calm your tits. You take over rowing, and I’ll swim back to the dock.” He drops his jeans and steps out carefully, chuckling to himself. I’ve yet to find this situation funny.
“Really? You’re going to leave me in the middle of the lake?” My voice pitches with panic.
“Last one back gets spanked till she can’t sit down.” He winks and dives off in a blur of long limbs and seamless elegance. The water is so clear, I can see him disappear into the deep. When he surfaces, he swishes his long wet hair away from his face with a sharp twist of his head. He starts to swim away as if he hasn’t a care in the world, drawing his body through the water with large backward circles.
“Wait, Joel, that’s cheating! Damnit! I didn’t agree to that bet…shit,” I fluster, watching him languidly increasing the distance between us. The boat wobbles precariously as I scrabble to take the seat he just vacated and grab the oars before they slip into the water. I’m thankful they are locked into place and can’t actually fall into the lake, but they are surprisingly heavy. I jolt with a grunt as I struggle to lift the damn things from the water. I can�
�t seem to get them to work together. He made it look so effortless, and I can’t even lift them both out of the water at the same time, let alone synchronise the movement enough to get the bloody boat heading in the right direction.
I splash around for a few precious minutes, getting so wet I may as well have dived in right after Joel. If I wouldn’t embarrass myself with the world’s worst doggy paddle, I would seriously consider ditching the boat and doing just that. I finally manage to pull both oars through the water, once, then twice. The small boat glides easily through the water, and after several strokes, I actually start to smile. The burn across my shoulders feels good, and with a quick glance over my shoulder, I can see I’m gaining on Joel as he streaks toward the dock with barely a splash on the surface of the lake.
“Come on, babe, you’re nearly there.” Joel calls out, laughter irritatingly highlighting his smugness at easily beating me.
“Fuck off!” I sing song my reply. I won’t rise to his goading since I feel like a champion, rowing for the first time, managing to steer it where I wanted and not end up on the other side of the lake or worse, spinning in circles waiting to be rescued. I lift one oar and drift alongside the long dock. Joel drops to his knees and reaches to grab the rope attached to the pointy bit of the boat. He deftly secures the length of rope through a large metal hoop and stands, still grinning from ear to ear. He offers his hand to help only to snatch it back when I narrow my eyes and growl.
“You bailed on me.”
“Never, Reggie, well, not if I had a choice.”
“You did have a choice; you could’ve kept on rowing us back home.” The euphoria of my achievement vanishes with a sudden surge of hormones.
“You managed.” He flips with a dismissive shrug, and I get a flash of fury bubbling from my chest and heading unchecked straight to my mouth.
“Yes, that’s because that’s what I do…I manage…cope…survive, but not because I have a fucking choice, Joel!”
“Reggie, hey, hey, what’s this about?” He waves his hand down in a slow soothing motion, his soft smile and the deep concern in his eyes calming me. “I’m sorry, baby, it was just meant it to be a bit of fun.”