Bonds of Courage

by Lynda Aicher

  “What about you?” he asked, slicking his fingers through his hair. The action seemed to wipe away the thoughts that had pressed on him moments ago. “Your family was great when I met them.”

  The quiet ease she’d been wallowing in drained away in an instant. Of course he’d ask about her family. That was how conversations flowed, but it managed to catch her off guard.

  She straightened, spinning away to launch to her feet. She didn’t talk about her family with her subs. But he already knew them and he wasn’t just a sub. Those facts collided and she didn’t know how to process the warring emotions.

  “Hey,” Holden objected. “Wow. Wait.” He caught her wrist as she neared the edge of the lake. “What’d I say?”

  Her reaction was irrational, but it didn’t stop the cloying feelings from invading. He eased his arms around her shoulders and held her, his chest to her back. It was a moment before she realized she wasn’t fighting him. Not even a little.

  In fact, she’d settled into his embrace without thinking about it.

  The trapped panic or sensation of being constrained wasn’t there. Not with Holden. Just like it’d been missing when she was beneath him on the stairs.

  “Why you?” Her question drifted over the water and merged with the soft lap of waves slapping against the rocky bank.

  “Why me what?”

  She couldn’t explain it to him, but the question remained unanswered within her. The sun glared off the water, diluting the horizon with its haze. But here, beneath the shade of the trees, it was pleasant. Intimate.

  True to his assessment, they’d passed only a smattering of other people on the trail. They were virtually alone with no one to disturb them. No quick access to help or neighbors to call on. And she wasn’t nervous or anxious at all.

  “I didn’t know we were doing family confession time when I came on this ride with you.” And there was her defensive prickliness that reared its ugly head whenever she felt cornered. It wasn’t fair to him. He’d shared openly, just like he gave all of himself in the playroom.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything, V.” He pressed a kiss to her crown. “It was just natural to ask after talking about mine. No biggie.”

  No biggie. Right. He’d already crossed every line she’d defined around her life. Met her family, charmed her parents, was BFFs with her sister, knew about The Den, her dominant side and skated with a number of guys she represented, all without her consent.

  Now he was sneaking in to steal her heart too.

  Gentle, kind, giving, strong Holden. The man who submitted to her every command in the playroom and held her so securely now.

  “My family is broken and close in a strange way that most can’t understand.” She let that statement hold for a while. He stayed silent, waiting, and she loved that about him. He intuitively seemed to know when to push her and when to be patient. It was a touchy pattern that confused even her, but he’d somehow figured it out. “Did you believe in Santa Clause when you were a kid?” she asked as a way to ease into the conversation.

  “Yes.”

  “Easter bunny? Tooth fairy?”

  “Yes and yes.”

  “I was never allowed to.”

  He jerked back, the motion tightening his arms around her. “What? Why?”

  “Mom didn’t see the point.” She searched for the emotion that should come with what she was revealing, but there was only an odd emptiness. The shock from others was normal. Next would come the disbelief and outrage. “Always practical, Mom believed there was no reason to perpetuate a belief in something that was false. We were raised to see the world as it was and not to believe in fairy tales. Cinderella was never allowed in our house.”

  “Damn. That’s harsh.” Holden rubbed her abdomen, his hand warm against her skin. “Did you at least get presents?”

  She smiled. It was weak but there. “Yeah. Never lavish and always something we needed. I stopped asking for things I wanted before I was five.”

  “No way. What about your dad?”

  Her dad was an entirely different issue. “They divorced when I was six. He was there for us, but not. He loved his parties and his booze, and going against Mom wasn’t high on his priorities.”

  “And all those relatives who were at the lake?”

  “They’re all as screwed up as we are. There are nine cousins who’ve made a pact not to pass the gene pool down to another generation.” His chuckle held that hint of disbelief she expected. “I’m serious. I have no desire to have kids. Ever.”

  “Your family didn’t seem that bad to me.”

  She snorted a laugh. “We kept you away from the really crazy ones.”

  “Well there’s nothing wrong with you.” His voice held a conviction she wanted to believe, yet the years of being told otherwise left her digging for reasons to prove him wrong.

  “Really? Most of society thinks it’s abnormal to want to tie men up and torture them until they beg for mercy. Many classify that as being on the demented scale.”

  He turned her around, and she went willingly. She glared at him, ready for the denial and persuasion that usually came next. She’d had this conversation many times, and most thought she’d change her mind about having kids when “the right man came along.”

  “If it’s abnormal to want to inflict pain on someone, then it’s even more demented to be the person who wants the pain. Right? So what does that make me?”

  He had her there, but... There were so many buts.

  “Beautiful,” she answered honestly. “Amazing and beautiful to me.”

  “Then we’d have crazy, beautiful, demented kids.” He cupped her face, the gentleness ripping her apart. “Or not. It doesn’t matter though, because all I want is you.”

  Oh, God. The queasy sickness rolled through her hotter than the heat of the sun. How did she respond to that? To everything that was in his eyes?

  She stepped away, his hands falling to leave her cheeks cold. “We should start back,” she said as she bent to grab the water bottles from the ground. “Let’s take the long way through the woods for something different.”

  His sigh was soft, but she heard it, along with the frustration within it. For once, the sound didn’t come from her. She kept her lips tightly closed because she knew if a sigh came out of her it’d hold too much regret.

  “Okay.” His agreement was easy, the lightness back in his face. “But it’s uphill part of the way. You think you can handle that?”

  She arched her brow, the challenge raised. “I can handle you, can’t I?”

  “Well...” he rumbled, chest puffed out, a cocky grin in place. All he needed was the pants-hitch to complete the arrogant posturing. Fortunately he refrained from doing that, but he did throw in the sniff. “Who wouldn’t want to handle this?” He crouched into a muscle pose with his arms flexed in arcs before him.

  “Oh, God.” She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated show, but her laughter was rich and full when it flowed through the clearing.

  “What?” The faked innocence was almost as enduring as his submission. “Come on. Admit it. All this turns you on.” He switched into another pose, complete with a god-awful smarmy grin. It was too much. And so what she needed.

  She glanced around then walked up to him and grabbed hold of his balls through the material of his nylon shorts. He instantly hunched forward. There was something so enticing about watching his eyes go wide before they rolled back, his mouth gaping with heavy breaths. She pulled down, and he fell to his knees, going to the ground as she squatted, her grip firm.

  It was another second, two, three before he opened his eyes to reveal the heated mix of pain and desire within them.

  “This turns me on,” she said, squeezing for emphasis. The press of the tender globes in her hand was a shot of power that heated her
blood.

  “Yes, Vanessa.” Even here, on a moment’s notice, he switched to the reverent tone of a submissive. It encircled her, praised her dominance and reinforced her control.

  “You giving me this turns me on.” Her heart raced with his panting breaths and she pressed just a bit tighter. His resulting tremble vibrated through her hand and went straight to her core.

  He pitched forward, his gulping gasps rushing over her damp neck as he dug his forehead into the curve of her shoulder. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  Words too true, spoken too sweetly in a choked voice that made her want. Made her wish and even dream a little.

  Sweat slicked his skin, his heart pounded against her arm and she was powerless against the emotions that rolled in her stomach and had her pulse matching his. Desire, fear, comfort, hope and something else that confused her even more.

  She let go, opening her arms for him to collapse into. She held him, or maybe he held her, until their breathing evened out. The grass dug into her knees and her thighs protested the odd angle, but she didn’t shift or let go. Not until he was ready.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Holden sat back on his comfortable couch, feet resting on the coffee table in front of him. He swallowed the bite of pizza, a grin returning. The damn perma-grin had been in place for most of the day, not that he was complaining.

  Vanessa’s soft laugh drew his gaze from the movie they were watching to study her. Freshly showered and wearing one of his old green-and-white Michigan State shirts like a dress. She’d stretched the material over her bent knees to huddle beneath it. Gone was the tension and control that usually armored her every action, replaced by relaxed contentment.

  In the quiet of his house, the outside world shut out, he knew he was getting a treasured glimpse of her that few were fortunate to see. She’d blessed him with that through most of their day. Biking, sitting by the lake, laughing—it was one his best days in a very long time.

  He wanted more of this. Her. Vanessa, V, Mistress—every part of her.

  She caught his eye. Maybe it was the look on his face or the intimacy of the room lit by soft lights and the glow of the TV. He didn’t know, but her smile faded and the stiffness returned.

  “I should—”

  “Don’t,” he overrode her, reaching out to hold her knee. “Stay.”

  She shook her head, the still-damp ends of her hair falling in spiky ends down her chest. “I can’t, Holden.”

  “Why?” He wasn’t particularly proud of the frustration that came out in the question, but it was there for her to hear.

  Her gaze darted away, landed on the TV before skipping to the remains of their dinner spread over the coffee table. “I have work to do that I blew off all day.”

  “That’s an excuse. Tell me the real reason.”

  Her glare pierced through him. “I do have work.” She stood, her movements stiff as she gathered up the dirty paper plates and napkins and tossed them on top of the pizza box.

  “Leave it.” He grabbed the box from her hands. “I’ll get this later.”

  Her sigh was heavy and loaded with the weighted patience that’d been absent all day. Damn. He didn’t want her to be mad. He set the box down and stood.

  “Hey.” He ducked his head and dared to turn her chin until she looked at him again. “Sorry. I won’t push. Okay? I had a great day. Thank you.”

  The slight tremble of her chin lasted an instant, and he probably wouldn’t have noticed if it hadn’t vibrated through his fingertips. “Me too,” she finally said. “It was nice.”

  Nice wasn’t the word he’d use, but he’d take it from her. “It was.” He dropped his hand and scooped up the pizza mess to take it to the kitchen. Back to the neutral zone. He got that. Didn’t like it at all, but it was what it was. “I’ve been thinking,” he said when she entered the kitchen.

  “You do that?”

  He glanced at her, the snarky smirk giving her away. “Har, har.” The lid of the trash can banged closed and he wiped his hands on a towel. “Seriously.” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly uncertain.

  She leaned her forearms on the marble island, and he tore his gaze away from the tempting show of cleavage the baggy neckline revealed. That quirky smile of hers said she knew exactly where his focus had been. He flashed a grin, not caring.

  “What were you thinking about?” she prompted.

  Oh, yeah. “Liv’s youth center could really use an overhaul. They need air conditioning, new supplies, paint, and I’m sure the windows are drafty as hell in the winter.”

  Her brows pulled together in a hesitation that matched the tone of her voice. “Yeah, and?”

  “Well...” Damn, he hadn’t expected this to be so hard. And why was it? It was a good idea. He knew it. He clapped his hands together, rubbing them in a brisk movement that fueled his conviction. “I could donate some money—and I will. But I was thinking a big fund-raiser would get enough to do all the repairs and upgrades the center needs, plus give them a little backup money.” He bounced on his toes a few times, adrenaline flowing as he warmed to the idea. Like before a game, he was getting himself psyched for the challenge. “A big fund-raiser with the Glaciers’s players and a community carnival and whatever else we can pull together. If we time it at the end of summer, it can be promoted as a meet and greet before the season starts. Most of the guys will be back by the end of August, and I can rope them in if you’re busy, or I can work with the Glaciers’s PR person. I’m thinking signings, floor hockey, other carnival games, maybe a raffle for some tickets and signed stuff. Plus—”

  “Hold on,” Vanessa cut in, a soft laugh rolled into the words. “I get it.”

  His heart hammered a wild beat of pure nerves. For some crazy reason, it was important that she liked his idea. That she backed him. Her disapproval wouldn’t necessarily stop him but would suck away some of his excitement.

  She flipped her head up, brushing her hair away from her face as she straightened. “Why?”

  That was the one question he hadn’t anticipated the twenty times he’d run the idea through his head. But it was easy to answer. “Because I want to help.”

  “But why?” she persisted. “Why do you want to help? Why Liv’s center?”

  “Why not Liv’s center? It does good things. She does good things.” He leaned in, the marble cold under his palms. “Most of the kids just need a little sign that they’re loved and know they have a safe place to go. Liv gives them that and a chance at something better. With an updated facility and the extra funds, she can continue to do that and maybe help more kids.”

  The silence stretched as she studied him, her lips pursed in a hard line that matched any general manager contemplating a problem player.

  “Look, V.” He moved around the island and stood in front of her. The desire to tuck her into his arms and force her to feel his sincerity was so strong he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from doing so. “It’s not a way to manipulate you. That’s the truth. Most players have more money than we need, and charity donations are a tax write-off. But the kids want to see the guys more than they want a random check. The center will benefit from the money raised, but it’s the kids I want to help.”

  Her head moved in a slow shake that wasn’t disagreement but definitely wasn’t acceptance. “I don’t get you.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “It hasn’t changed.”

  “Maybe you should stop trying to analyze me and just go with it.”

  Her eyes narrowed before a smile cracked her hard shell. A puff of amusement or maybe derision flowed out before she shook her head again. “I won’t have that much time to help you.”

  His grin creased his checks and pulled on his jaw. “No problem. I’ll organize it. Just give me the names of some contacts
and I’ll do the rest.” His excitement bubbled out as the idea solidified. Her statement was the approval he’d been seeking.

  “Have you talked to Liv about this?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to run it by you first.”

  “Why?”

  There was that question again. “Because this stuff is your area. If you thought the idea was crap, you’d tell me and I wouldn’t waste my time.”

  “The idea’s not crap. It’s actually pretty good. The Glaciers can get a lot of publicity out of something like this.”

  “And it would help out that neighborhood and the kids. That’s the real point.”

  “You’re right. It would.”

  He hauled her in for a tight hug, his exuberance overflowing into the kiss he planted on her lips. A kiss that deepened to remind him of the ache that remained in his tender balls and the desire that simmered when she was near. The blend of iced tea and pizza sauce sweetened her usual flavor.

  She pulled away, stepping out of his arms. Her eyes were gentle when she reached up to rub a thumb over his still-tingling lips. “I have to go. My flight leaves at six a.m.”

  A glance at the clock showed it edging toward eight already. “Do you need a ride to the airport?” There was always a shot she’d say yes.

  “I use a car service.”

  A long shot that went wide. “All right.” He dropped another kiss to her mouth before giving her butt a light pat. “You can wear that home. No one will see you.”

  She glanced down at the oversized shirt and looked at him from under her lashes. “Sounds like a great way to torment you.”

  He frowned. “How?”

  Her smile was positively devious. “The things you have to learn, grasshopper.” The ring of her chuckle flowed down the hall behind her as she headed toward the front door.

  “Oh teach me, wise one,” he called. He flicked off the lights and darted into the family room to turn off the television before meeting her by the door.