Bonds of Courage

by Lynda Aicher

  But the responsibility that usually left her at the playroom door was sitting front and center in her chest. The weight stole her breath and pissed her off even more.

  Why in the hell couldn’t he stay in the box she’d defined for him?

  “You like him.”

  The statement stabbed her. She contained her wince to a small pucker of her lips, but her sister must’ve caught it. Liv’s low hum soured her mood even more.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Liv continued, the words solely for Vanessa. The others were either in the water or sitting around the front of the boat out of earshot of their conversation.

  “Why did you invite him?” Vanessa yanked her gaze from Holden to glare at her sister before the need pulled her focus back to his retreating form. He was near the shore now. Would he know to watch out for the rocks hidden in the shallows?

  Liv leaned into her, the warmth of her skin flowing into Vanessa in a connection that couldn’t be broken over a man. “He’s been helping at the center. Playing with the kids, donating sports equipment, pitching in where needed.”

  “Why would he do that?” The question was mumbled, more of a curiosity spoken aloud than a real inquiry.

  “Because he’s a good guy,” Liv answered.

  A frown pulled on Vanessa’s forehead. What was he after? Was he sweetening up Liv to get to her? Just the thought of someone using her sister had Vanessa’s blood boiling. What threw her was the jealousy that simmered under the protectiveness.

  “I warned him to leave you alone,” she grumbled, realizing her reaction was off base. Holden might be manipulative, but he wasn’t cruel.

  Liv patted Vanessa’s leg. “Down, V. He’s made it clear that he has no interest in me or getting into my pants.”

  “He’d better not,” she gritted out, annoyed at her inability to keep her anger hidden.

  “V.” Liv sighed and curled herself into Vanessa’s side, her head coming to rest on Vanessa’s shoulder. “I invited him, so don’t take it out on Holden, okay? I like him. As a friend,” she quickly clarified. “He might surprise you if you let him.”

  That was what terrified her. He’d already sneaked more bombs over her walls than any other man. What would happen if she didn’t shut him down?

  He’d reached the shore now. His trunks clung to his hard thighs as he navigated the rocks and exposed tree limbs along the shoreline. Even at this distance, he was a specimen of athletic fitness. And he was hers—if she wanted him.

  And she did. She just didn’t understand why.

  He found a rock and sat, his arms wrapped around his bent knees. She couldn’t tell for certain where his gaze was focused, but her flesh tingled in awareness like it had done every time he’d glanced her way that day.

  “I don’t like surprises,” she whispered.

  “I know,” Liv soothed, her hand rubbing over Vanessa’s thigh. “But sometimes they turn out to be the best gifts.”

  Sometimes though, they were the worst horrors. Liv knew that. But was Holden really either of those? Was she making too much out of nothing?

  “Are you staying for the fireworks tonight?” Liv’s shift in conversation was well-timed, an art her sister had honed from years of defusing or heading off heated battles within their family.

  Vanessa shook her head. “I hadn’t planned on it.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched fireworks unless they were at the opening or closing of a sporting event.

  “Maybe you should.”

  “I have to work tonight.”

  “On what?” Liv shifted to stare at her, searching.

  “Stuff.” Vanessa gave a dismissive shrug. “There are always fires to put out or set.” She silently cursed her slip. She was scheduled to work at The Den and that part of her life was strictly off-limits to everyone in her family.

  “Right,” her sister finally said, the doubt clear.

  “Let it go.” Vanessa was used to Liv’s nagging about the amount of time she spent working, only she didn’t want to hear it now. Not when her cellular world was imploding on her.

  Liv patted her arm and uncurled from her spot. “I’m jumping in.” She motioned to the water as she slid her shorts down. “You coming in?” Vanessa shook her head, and Liv shrugged. “Your loss.” She jumped into the water, a cannonball-size splash spraying over Vanessa.

  She laughed, amazed at her sister’s resilience. Despite the crap life had dealt Liv, she still managed to live it with a laugh.

  Vanessa studied the man sitting on the rocks, pondering Liv’s parting words. Your loss. Was that true about more than just a swim? Was Holden worth it? She didn’t know, and that was the kicker. She wouldn’t know unless she opened herself up and took a risk.

  Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He wasn’t her friend and he wasn’t her enemy exactly. But he had the ability to destroy her on so many levels, which meant it was past time she controlled the situation and him. Containment was the first step in putting out a fire.

  A smile lifted her lips, her plan forming. One Mr. Holden Hauke was about to get more than he bargained for, and she was more than willing to put that man back in the box where he belonged.

  * * *

  Holden heaved a sigh of relief when the pontoon finally pulled up to the dock. The afternoon hadn’t been all bad. Liv had integrated him into the group in the seamless way she had with everyone. A few hours of swimming, drinks, music and laughs had passed under Vanessa’s watchful eye.

  Her glare had eased by the time he’d returned from his swim, but the icy repellent hadn’t cooled at all. He’d heeded the frost warning and stayed clear. A scene on the confined space of the boat wasn’t something either of them wanted.

  Yet his frustration simmered and brewed with every second that passed. She might be his Mistress, but that didn’t give her the right to treat him like shit outside of the playroom. Maybe she thought it did, but that didn’t work for him. Per her rules, she wasn’t his Mistress here—she was Vanessa. And she was being a bitch.

  Nothing new there, either.

  He vaulted over the side of the boat and grabbed one of the lines, tying the boat to the dock. Silently, he counted out the seconds until he could politely leave.

  “I think your nose is sunburned,” Liv teased when she exited the boat. He looked up, his smile fading when he met Vanessa’s eyes as she stepped onto the dock behind her sister.

  “Yeah?” He forced a smile to Liv. “Probably. I don’t get a lot of sun inside an ice rink.”

  “It looks good on you.”

  Vanessa’s blatant eye roll was impossible to ignore, yet he refused to acknowledge it. “Thanks. You got some sun, too.” He pointed to Liv’s red shoulders. The entire conversation was pointless as they’d all been roasting in the sun for hours. It was filler and obvious and neither of them stopped it as the rest of the people filtered off the boat and down the dock. He reached over the boat rail and grabbed his T-shit, slipping it on. “I had a great time. Thanks.”

  He squinted into the bright sun and glanced over the lawn filled with people. A game of bocce ball had replaced the volleyball tournament, and a large number of people held plates full of food. The grills produced a bounty of scents that reminded him of how little he’d eaten that day, yet food was the last thing he wanted.

  “It’s time to eat,” Liv said, heading down the dock. “Let’s get it before it’s all gone.”

  Holden waited for Vanessa to follow her sister, but she didn’t. Alone on the dock, her focus pinned him in place even behind her dark sunglasses until he finally looked away. “What, Vanessa?”

  It was another moment filled with sounds of others enjoying the day before she answered. “Why’d you come here?”

  He sighed, shaking his head in slow resignation. Her attack was exactly what he’d e
xpected, yet he’d still hoped for more. “Because Liv invited me and it sounded like fun.” All true. He kept his eyes averted though in case the guilt showed.

  “I’m sure you had more attractive invitations than this.” She stepped closer, the rigid set of her shoulders saying more than her cold tone. She shifted her sunglasses to rest them on top of her head. Like before, her casual appearance didn’t diminish her authority. Not with him.

  He finally met her gaze to find a chill radiating from eyes that could hold the hottest passion he’d ever experienced. His hair was damp beneath his palm as he scrubbed a hand through it in a failed attempt to contain his frustration. Three hours of feeling like shit was more than enough, even if he had brought it upon himself.

  He moved closer. She held her ground. God, he wanted to strangle her and kiss her and kneel before her all at once. “You set the rules, Vanessa. In your words, ‘I can fuck who I want.’ Right now, I’m just a guy enjoying the Fourth of July at the invitation of a friend. I have no interest in fucking your sister and I didn’t come here to bug you. But I get it.” He blew out a breath, his rant fading with his acceptance. “I crossed some line of yours I didn’t know existed. For that, I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes,” he insisted, his jaw tight around the word.

  Her eyes were narrowed to slits of doubt. “This is the second time you’ve tried to play me.”

  His denial was right there, but he clamped it down. Lying to her would only dig his hole deeper. It hadn’t been completely intentional, but he’d come to the party, hoping to shake her. Too bad his plan had worked so well.

  “I’m not one of your dumb bimbos happy to get a fuck from you.”

  The urge to hang his head in shame was so strong he almost found himself doing just that. But he wasn’t a child being scolded by his mother. He’d take his reprimands head on, chin held high. “I know.”

  “Manipulating me will never get you what you want.”

  “Noted.” She was right, and there was nothing he could say in his defense. He’d pushed, and she’d smacked back. “I’m sorry.” He infused all the truth and emotion that churned within him into the simple apology. Hurting her hurt him more.

  He stepped around her, more than ready to get the hell out of there. He’d certainly fucked up any chance he’d had with her, in any capacity. Why did he keep torturing himself?

  “Holden.”

  There it was. Goddammit. His feet stopped like they were controlled by her. It wasn’t what she said, but the tone that took hold of his psyche and flipped that submissive switch within him.

  “I’m working The Den tonight. Be there at nine.”

  Really? His back was to her, his escape staring at him over the expanse of green lawn. His fingers dug into his hips until they cramped, but the pain didn’t compare to the memory of what she’d done to him. Of the possibilities that still existed with her.

  A light breeze blew across his damp, heated skin to leave a trail of goose bumps down his back. He had no clue what she would do if he agreed to meet her tonight. Would she punish him? Scorn him? Or worse, ignore him completely?

  No matter her intent, all of the options left him buzzing. Wanting.

  His low croak of a response sounded weak in his ears, yet it shuddered through him with a resounding echo of relief. “Yes, Mistress.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Five hours later, he stood in the same damn office where the push-and-pull struggle with Vanessa had started. The light dinner he’d managed to get down was now a hard ball that felt like a rock in his gut.

  He couldn’t sit. The energy that pumped through him was too wild to restrain. So he stood, leg bouncing, arms crossed, waiting.

  She’d texted him with instructions, and he’d followed each one. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black boots. He felt like he should be riding a Harley, but it was what his Mistress wanted.

  Taking a deep breath, he exhaled and spread his stance. In the next breath he clasped his hands behind his back and lowered his head. The position helped to settle some of the restlessness that plagued him.

  He was here for her. That thought alone relaxed him more than any exercise or breathing technique. Would she punish him tonight? Tell him to get lost?

  Or was this another forward pass in their relationship—agreement? They didn’t have a relationship. Not the one he wanted, at least.

  He’d find out tonight if they had anything at all.

  * * *

  Vanessa swept into Seth’s office on a stride that snapped with assurance. Her façade held in place by sheer force of will.

  She shouldn’t be relieved that he was there, yet she was.

  He stood in perfect rest position facing the door. His gaze was angled at the floor just as she’d defined. He didn’t even look up to see who’d entered.

  “Mr. Hauke.” She kept her voice void of emotion, which was harder to do than normal.

  “Mistress.”

  The sun might’ve burned her skin that afternoon, but it hadn’t chased away the inner cold the way Holden’s single word did. Filled with a deep ring of respect and reverence, it warmed the chill from her bones.

  She walked up to him, her admiration for his form—for him—filling the angry void that always seemed to stalk her. Where did that leave her?

  His chest was firm when she ran her hands over his pecs. She’d wavered all afternoon over her next steps, the risk versus the want that wouldn’t go away. His nipples puckered under her palms, and she tweaked each one through the cotton until his breath hitched.

  She moved back, his scent teasing her to stay close. “Shirt off.”

  She’d been forced to stare at his body for half the day. Now, she wanted to claim all of it. He folded his T-shirt and set it on the desk behind him where she indicated. His shoulders and chest were pink from the sun, much like her own. A light touch confirmed the warmth that simmered from the burn.

  “You should’ve used more sunblock.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Yes, Mistress. So compliant now, but he’d been angry with her that afternoon. “Why are you here, Holden?”

  “Because you told me to be.”

  The correct answer once again. “And?”

  He wet his lips, the only reaction he’d had since she’d entered the room. “Because I want to be here. With you.”

  The first response would’ve been enough from any other sub. The rest was what she wanted from him.

  “Would you ever tell me no?”

  His eyes closed, and she tilted his chin up so when he opened his eyes he was looking at her. He searched her, his hesitancy showing before it disappeared behind a wall of confidence. “Yes, I would, Mistress.”

  Not the answer most submissives would give. By some standards, it was a very wrong answer. But it was the exact one she’d been hoping he’d give her.

  She reached up, his hair ruffling between her fingers as she raked her nails over his scalp. His eyes flickered, lips parted in an unintentional offer. He didn’t resist when she dug her fingers into the back of his head and pulled him toward her. Her heels alleviated some of their height difference, but she liked that he still had to duck to obey her.

  She held him there, their mouths a breath away, his eyes showing the lust, the desire and the barest of hope. She wet her lips then blew a trail of air over his parted ones. His lids drifted closed, lips parting more, but he didn’t press forward or force his position on her. Off balance, hands still held behind his back, his trust in her was explicit.

  His submission for her was so pure.

  Damn him.

  She dug her nails deeper into his scalp, her other hand twisting the tender bud of his nipple in a hard pinch. His gasp was silent, and she claimed it as her own.

&nbs
p; His lips were soft under hers, the flesh yielding when she pressed harder, took more. She swept her tongue into his welcoming mouth to find a sweet heat that played over her senses. His tongue swirled with hers, his lips moving to meet hers, yet he never tried to control the kiss. Not when she nipped his lip or sucked on his tongue or tortured the nipple between her fingers with a vicious twist that sucked the breath through his nose.

  Blood coursed through her body, tightening her nipples and raising her pulse until it battered her chest. Her pussy clenched, seeking to be filled. The desire for his thick length was both annoying and hot. She didn’t crave men or sex, yet she craved Holden.

  She eased back, their panting breaths mingling in the small space between them. His eyes were opened wide, his pupils consuming the blue to declare the desire she felt.

  “You’re my submissive,” she said, her voice soft and husky.

  “Yes, Mistress.” His response came with a gravelly shudder that reached into her.

  She yanked him down to nip his earlobe. “Don’t fuck with me, Holden.” Her warning was spoken directly into his ear before she took another bite of his lobe.

  “Never.” He twisted his chin toward her, his breath caressing her cheek. “Vanessa.”

  She bit her lip at the soft roll of her name. Damn it to hell. It sounded too good coming from him. It was audacious of him. Bold and bordering on insubordinate, but she didn’t want to object.

  He was acknowledging her, not the role or the image she presented. But...

  “Not here.” She licked a trail around the shell of his ear and finally released his nipple. His shuddered groan as the blood flooded back into the bud sent a rush of power through her. “That’s for my playroom,” she continued when his breathing leveled into soft pants. “Not here.”

  His low moan had a smile forming on her lips. The solid thump of his heart under her palm backed up his silent agreement.

  She sucked in a long breath and stepped away. He followed her departure, his body leaning forward until he caught himself before he lost his balance.

  There was such need in his eyes, but it was underscored by the strength that was a quiet part of him. He solidified his place when he lowered himself down to rest his weight on his strong knee. A modified kneel that worked for him. He was giving his submission without injuring himself. Giving himself to her over and over again when she’d done so little to earn that honor.