by Measha Stone
Dammit.
His shoulders dropped, and his eyes darkened. “Yeah. Fine. Okay.” He stalked back to his bag and threw the small leather paddle back inside, jerking the zipper to close it.
“I’m really sorry.”
He swung the bag over his shoulder. “It’s fine. I don’t want to play with anyone who’s unsure. It wouldn’t be fun for either of us.”
She watched him walk away. Although a little put out, he didn’t seem mad. Or hurt. She wouldn’t want to hurt him.
“You have to clean the bench.” a deep voice, a familiar voice said from behind her. “So others can use it.”
Her stomach went right back into a square knot. Scott slowly came into view.
Thankfully, he was standing alone. She’d half expected to see some doll hanging off his arm. Her relief quickly changed into panic at seeing his handsome face again. He wore a tight black V-neck T-shirt and jeans. He’d bulked up even more since the last time she’d seen him. Which explained the tight shirt; he probably hadn’t bought new clothes to fit better once his muscles started to grow.
Great, now she rambled in her head, too.
“Scott. Hi.” She finally remembered to breathe.
His jaw tensed, but his eyes, those warm, revealing eyes softened. “Sophie.”
“Did. Did you want the bench? We didn’t really use it, but I’ll wipe it down,” she offered, jerking her thumb at it.
“I know.”
“You know what?” she asked. Had she moved? He seemed closer.
“That you didn’t really use it. I was waiting to see if you would go through with it.” His eyes shifted to the bench then back.
“You were watching me?” She couldn’t help the accusation from flying out of her mouth. She hadn’t been crazy.
“Not on purpose.” He folded his arms over his chest. A new tat covered his forearm, just like he’d talked about. “I mean. I didn’t like follow you here.”
She laughed. “I didn’t think that. It’s just… Well, I felt someone watching, but I couldn’t see with these lights.”
“You graduated?” He pressed ahead with no delay.
She nodded. “Yeah. A few weeks ago. I start at the D.C. office next week.” She rolled her shoulders back. She’d busted her ass at the academy. She deserved the pride coursing through her at completing the training.
He stepped closer still. “I’m proud of you, Sophie.” He surprised her by saying, “You did good.”
“Then why do I feel like such shit right now?” she blurted, her shoulders caving in again.
His fingers ran over her jaw. She could smell the musk of his aftershave, feel the roughness of his skin against hers. To lean into his touch would take away so much of the ache in her heart, her soul. But she remained still.
“Because you’ve been gone for five months, and we didn’t leave things exactly the way we should have.” His voice came at her low, controlled.
“I-I overreacted. I shouldn’t have blocked you. I should have called you when my mom told me you stopped by.”
He moved his hand farther up her jaw, cupping her cheek.
“So, she did tell you. I thought maybe she wouldn’t. She looked a little pissed when she realized who I was.”
“I may have twisted the story of our fight a little.” She turned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against her cheek.
“Fight? Is that all it was? You hid some pretty big things from me, Sophie. And I acted like a complete asshole about it. But I wasn’t completely truthful, either. I never wanted casual. Not with you.” His thumb rubbed her cheekbone. “I wanted everything, and I figured if I took it slow, you’d come to want the same thing.”
“I—”
His hand dropped away from her. “Why did you stop just now? With him? What made you call it off?”
She wrinkled her brow. Who? Oh! Jason.
Heat crept up her cheeks.
“I didn’t bring my toy bag with me tonight, so I can’t get answers out of you the way I did before. So, you’ll just have to tell me.” He took a small step back, showing her he wouldn’t touch her again.
She let out a breath. “In short, he wasn’t you.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Go on.”
“He wanted me to tell him what I wanted. What implement, how hard. You never let me decide those things.”
“Sure, I did.” He edged closer. “I let you decide to trust me to lead or not. I let you decide to submit or not to. You just always made the right decision.” His lips pulled up in a full grin. “Didn’t you give him your list?”
“Oh!” She covered her cheeks with her hands. “That fucking list. I made such an ass of myself with that.”
He shook his head. “No. You didn’t. You just didn’t know better. And it’s good to have a list of limits for when you meet someone.”
When you meet someone.
Her heart sank, and the little embarrassment she felt about her damn list blew up into mortification. She’d thought he’d approached her because he wanted to talk things out.
But, why would he? She’d been crystal clear she didn’t want anything serious. And he’d just confessed to not wanting anything casual.
So, she stood there in front of him. Once again with the choice. All in or nothing. But did it have to be all or nothing?
“Scott,” she started when he shifted his stance. “I—have you been with anyone else while I was gone?” she blurted.
He shook his head. “No. You?”
She laughed. “Yeah, after a full day of drills and classes, I found time to—” She caught the darkening of his eyes. “No.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because.” She closed her eyes. “Because I was an idiot. I should have told you about applying for the FBI academy. I should have told you I was falling for you and casual wasn’t on my radar anymore. I should have told you I’m not sure I want any other man touching me.” She slowly opened her lids when he said nothing. Maybe he’d walked away to laugh at her without hurting her feelings.
He stared down at her, his lips thin and his eyes focused on her.
“You were falling for me?” he asked softly.
“Why do you think I didn’t walk out of your apartment that night when I saw you snuck in a friends dinner? Or why I spent the night with you? I was falling hard and fast, and I couldn’t stop myself. And when I got the notice I’d been accepted to the academy I realized how bad it would look. I came over that night to talk to you about it.”
He pressed his hand against her mouth.
“Since you were partnered with me, I thought about having you. At first, I figured it wouldn’t work, you being vanilla. But then I saw you at the roulette game. After that, it was all I could do not to throw you over my shoulder and claim you as mine. You wanted casual, you wanted slow, and I convinced myself I could do that, but I couldn’t. I can’t.”
She would have melted into her shoes if he hadn’t been holding her up.
“We both fucked this up pretty good. You have no idea how much I wanted to charge over here and punch that asshole for even thinking of touching you,” he said with heat.
If he didn’t kiss her soon, she’d have to kick him.
“Fuck. I missed you.” He released her mouth from his hand, only to capture it with his mouth.
It wasn’t just a welcome-home kiss. It was a you’re-fucking-mine-don’t-ever-forget-it kiss. Her toes curled in her shoes. Curled. How could she ever have thought she’d be able to keep anything casual with him?
“I need to clean off the bench,” she whispered against his lips when he finally let her loose.
“I’ll get someone else to do it. We have to go back to my apartment. The things I want to do to you, shouldn’t be done in public.” He waved over a DM and asked if he wouldn’t mind taking care of the station for them. The young guy looked a little annoyed, but he succumbed to the pout Sophie gave him and relented.
“Do you think you’ll
give me a spanking?” she asked as they stepped outside into the still-humid night air. It had cooled a degree or so, but still her hair frizzed.
“What do you think?”
“I think we have five months to make up for.” She gripped his hand tighter. Needing him, wanting him, and feeling calmer as the seconds ticked by just because he was touching her.
When they got to his car, he spun her around and pressed her against the closed door. Cupping her face with both hands, he kissed her again, leaving her breathless and thoughtless.
“Sophie, this isn’t casual anymore. This is full-on relationship stuff. You’re mine. My girlfriend, my submissive, my everything. You got it?” His fingers sank into her hair, pulling at the roots.
“Got it.” She nodded. “Sir.”
His eyes rolled, and he kissed her again. “Enough tempting me, naughty girl.” He smacked her hip and opened her door. “Let’s get home before I bend you over the bumper of my car.”
She laughed, a full bodied, lighthearted sound that spread through her entire body.
Not everything lasted forever. Food spoiled. Flowers died. Relationships wavered.
But for the first time ever, she couldn’t see the bad side to this. Scott didn’t fly off to find some new girl to play with. He’d been hurting as much as she had. She’d seen it in his expression when he first walked over to her.
They didn’t have to hurt anymore.
They had each other.
And it was more than enough.
It was everything.
THE END
We hope you enjoyed this Black Collar Press Release. You won’t have to wait long for our next Black Light installment, Black Light: Obsession by new Black Collar Press author, Dani Rene. Look for a release in late August or early September, 2018.
Be one of the first to read this prologue from Black Light: Obsessed by Dani Rene:
obsession
əbˈsɛʃ(ə)n/
noun
noun: obsession
1. the state of being obsessed with someone or something.
Prologue
Roisin
There’s a soft glow from the streetlamp, which bathes the room in silvery light.
The house is silent, filled with heavy breathing and the stale stench of alcohol and sex. Dirty, vile, and putrid. I’m never sure because I stay locked in my bedroom when they have parties.
The two people who are now passed out without a care in the world will soon be left to their own devices. Shoving my clothes into the suitcase, I glance around, taking in the home I’ve spent the last four years in. But there’s nothing more for me here. I waited until I was of legal age before I even thought about running. Any younger and I’d be worse off out there than I ever am in here.
Tomorrow I’ll be eighteen and they won’t want me here anymore. They’ll soon be looking for a younger, more profitable baby.
Nobody wants me.
My parents made it clear when I was born, leaving me on the steps of a church. Talk about a poster child for a cliché’dlife story. Taken in by the pastor and his wife, I grew up Christian, praying and taught to believe in a God that has never been there for me.
Even though they gave me a roof to live under, it was never a home. Each Sunday, I was taken to church, to pray for my sins, and every week, I’d just go out and do them again.
When I turned sixteen, they sent me away. Father Paulson’s wife thought I was a devil child, so they put me in the system. No couple wants to adopt a sixteen-year-old, they want a cute baby they can coddle and coo with.
That’s when Brady and Dana walked in and saw me. A meal ticket. They weren’t parents. Far from it. They didn’t give a shit if I was out doing drugs or if I was in my bedroom with one of the boys from school. No, I was only here because the State gave them money to keep me.
All the funds that were meant to go toward my schooling, clothes, and stationery were spent on more alcohol for their friends who visited every weekend. The men who would smirk at me like I was their next meal. I figured I was safe. But that’s the first mistake I made.
Sighing, I glance in the mirror as I pull my long red waves into a messy bun. My blue eyes have lost their sparkle. All my life I’ve spent hiding because of my looks. Floppy jumpers, jeans, and trainers. A tom boy.
Everyone told me I’m pretty. A stunner. I didn’t want that. I never did because underneath it all, it’s my looks that got me in trouble. It’s those big cerulean eyes, the pouty rose-colored lips, and the fair porcelain skin that ensured my life would turn to hell.
Most people would assume it’s my adoptive father who did it.
Others would gossip that it was the priest and perhaps that’s why I got sent away.
They may have had a part to play in my broken past, but there was so much more to it than that. Until I reached sixteen, I lived in a home that was focused on religion. The man who was a Father to many, took everything from me.
When I went to my second foster home, I knew as soon as I walked into the house, it would not be any better.
School was difficult for me. I didn’t have friends. I didn’t want any. But it was then when I’d given up hope, that I thought I’d found someone who saw me for who I am. The only boy I had ever trusted. Chad Hollister.
He noticed me. He asked me out.
For a whole year, twelve long, wonderful months, I was happy. He doted on me. Made sure I was smiling from ear to ear every day. I believed he really liked the broken girl he learned I was. I thought that deep down, he wanted to love me.
But life doesn’t afford girls like me a chance at love.
I’m broken into so many small pieces of myself that I know I can never be whole again.
When Chad saw me like that, he told me it’s okay. He still wanted me. Once again, I trusted someone and got burned in the process. When we walked into prom two nights ago, he had sent photos of me naked on his bed to everyone in our school.
They all saw me for who I really was.
And that’s part of the reason I need to leave.
Eighteen and a runaway.
I’m not sure where I’m headed, but it will be better than here. As soon as I step out of my bedroom, the smell hits my nostrils, causing my stomach to roll. Vomit, sweat, and alcohol, mixed with the old cigarette smell that always hangs around the house hit me square in the face.
I pull out my own packet of smokes, tapping a stick out and pressing it between my lips. The silver glint of my adoptivedad’s Zippo calls to me. With a smirk, I snatch it up on my way to the exit. To my freedom.
As soon as the front door hits my ass on the way out, I light up my smoke, shoving the expensive item into the back pocket of my jeans, then head toward the bus stop. Since it’s after midnight, I’m not expecting any public transport, but I’ll wait.
It’s not far, and the night is warm, balmy, heavy with the scent of the city. They call it the City of Angels, but it’s so far from the truth. Instead, it’s filled with devils and broken hearts. Dreams smashed on the sidewalk for all to see.
I won’t miss it. My old life will soon be a distant memory.
Upon reaching the road, lights flicker from an oncoming car, the only vehicle out at this time of the night in this part of town. When it nears me, I notice it’s a sleek silver Mercedes Benz. One of those fancy ones I know I’ll never own.
Perching my ass on the bench, I watch as he slows down, probably thinking I’m some fucking whore. He stops, rolls down his window, and leans over to drag his gaze over me. He looks like he’s in his late twenties. Dark hair, big eyes that look blue or silver, I can’t tell.
“Where you headed this late, darling?” His mouth tilts into a smirk, ravenous and hungry. That’s what they all want when they look at me.
A fuck.
“Anywhere away from here.”
He looks me up and down once more, nods, and unlocks his car. “Get in. I’ll drive you down to the station where you can get a bus. I’m not leaving LA for a
long while, so you’ll have to find your own way.”
I stare at him for a moment, unsure of trusting a stranger. The last time I did that, it didn’t go so well. But, it is the middle of the night and I have no place to go. Dropping my smoke on the concrete below my foot, I stomp it out, twisting my Chucks to kill it, and head toward the car.
“You’re no serial killer or anything. Are you?”
He chuckles at my question, shaking his head as he regards me with a small smile. “There’s no way I am, darling. Get in, I have to get home to my wife,” he tells me, lifting his left hand to show me the thick gold band around his ring finger.
Knowing he’s married doesn’t change the fact this asshole could do things to me other men have already done. But, somehow, for some inexplicable reason, I get in the car. It’s cool inside with the air conditioning blowing wildly from the vents. The leather seat below my ass squeaks as my jeans press against the smooth material.
“What’s your name, darling?” he questions, pulling away from the curb.
I don’t know why, but I lie. There were many times in my childhood I was whipped for lying, but there’s no longer anyone who can hurt me for doing as I please.
“My name’s Rosie,” I tell him, keeping my attention on the road. I know where I am, where we’re going, so if he makes a wrong turn, I’ll know. But he keeps his word, taking the road toward the bus station.
“You need to be careful, Rosie. Getting in a stranger’s car could get you hurt,” he warns, causing my eyes to veer his way. There’s a genuine seriousness in his tone. Something I haven’t heard in a long while.
“I know. But if I’ve already been killed inside, what difference does it make?”
My words are ominous, and he doesn’t respond. Perhaps he doesn’t know how, or he may never have expected me to say something like that. The rest of the drive is in utter silence.
I think about my meagre belongings as I take in his fancy car and I wonder if his kids are spoiled, or even if he has a family. The small laptop in my backpack that I managed to buy off Craigslist and the old mobile phone I got when I was living at the church are the only valuables I have.