My gaze faltered as I swallowed and began to unbutton my blouse, fingers trembling on every button. Once I’d undone all of them, I slipped it off and set it on top of my purse. Glancing at him and finding him still in position, I slipped my boots off. I wished I could see his eyes. Know what went on in his mind. Did he hate me?
And why did I care if he did?
He had every right in the world to hate me.
“Tempo, MacKayla.”
I pushed my jeans off and set them on top of the blouse, then unhooked my bra to slide it off, followed by my panties. Keeping my gaze lowered, I moved to the single cushion set on the floor where I’d knelt last night.
“Knees.”
Had he brought that for me, knowing it hurt my knees to be on the hardwood floor?
“Now.”
I went to kneel, but he stopped me.
“Face away from me.”
I met his gaze and held it, wanting to understand why. Why he wanted me to look away when he punished me.
But I also knew not to ask that question and instead obeyed his order, kneeling on the soft cushion.
“Knees wider.”
I shifted my weight so my legs spread wider, wondering how I looked to him with my ass balanced between my heels.
“Does it turn you on to dance? Don’t turn around, just answer.”
I continued facing the wall before me. “No, not usually.”
“Not usually, but sometimes?”
“I guess so.”
“When?”
My neck and ears began to burn. and I felt glad to be facing away from him so he wouldn’t see my reaction. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
Footsteps as he approached.
“Put your hand on your pussy, and tell me when it turns you on.”
I felt heat as he knelt behind me, aroused already to be here naked and kneeling before him, vulnerable to him, but now, with him so close, the command to touch myself, something I’d never done in front of anyone before, my clit throbbed, wanting to give what he demanded.
“Do it, MacKayla.”
He said it from so close behind me, I shuddered. I brought a trembling hand to my clit, and as I did, I felt him begin to slide a blindfold over my eyes. Gasping, I caught his wrist.
“Put your hand back on your cunt.”
I glanced over my shoulder to meet his hard gaze, then released his wrist and did as he said. Slater tied the silk cloth at the back of my head, taking away my sight, while I stroked my clit.
I felt him rise, and his footsteps told me he’d circled around to stand before me.
“Tell me at what point you’re turned on when you dance. And don’t stop working your clit.”
Why did him watching make me so hot?
“It’s when I…I sometimes pretend I’m about to pull my string aside and show them my…my pussy. I never do, but I tease them, and it makes them crazy.”
“So showing a room full of horny strangers your pussy turns you on. What does that make you?”
I paused, but he clucked his tongue, so I continued to play with my clit, rubbing it with its own juices, circling the nub, wanting to come while also wanting to hide away in shame.
“I don’t know.”
“A dirty slut.”
I dropped my head. He was right.
“How does it feel to know I’m watching you play with yourself? You like it, don’t you? You like being watched.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“But you like it at the same time.”
I nodded.
“Lean forward,” he said, moving behind me again. “Hands and knees. And arch your back.”
I turned my head in the direction of his voice, but black silk separated us. I obeyed, knowing he moved behind me to watch as I got on all fours.
“Push your ass out, MacKayla. Good, like that. You like showing them your ass too or just your pussy?”
I heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt. “Please, Slater…”
A whoosh followed by a thick line of fire met my plea, and I cried out, reaching back to cover my ass.
“Leather on flesh,” he said. “It turns some women on. Move your hands, or I’ll bind you.”
“Please.”
“Please whip me? Gladly. Hands. Now. And get back in position. I won’t ask nicely again.”
Without words, I resumed my position, my eyes squeezed tight behind the silk, all my muscles tense in anticipation.
“Relax your muscles. I want your ass soft.”
I swallowed at his words, afraid, but also some part of me wanting, wanting him not to stop.
“Does it turn you on, I wonder?”
He struck, the force of the blow thrusting me forward as I sucked in a breath.
“If I touch your pussy now”—he started, striking again, this time three in quick succession—“if it will be wet.”
Five more lashes and I tasted the metallic taste of blood from where I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
“Arch your back. We’re not through yet.”
I did as he said, tears streaming down my face as I tried to crawl away, only to have him hoist me up and lay me over the back of the armchair with one hand pressing into the small of my back.
“Are you wet?” he asked, striking again. “Or is it just pain?”
“It hurts! Please stop!”
He struck again. “You haven’t told me if you’re wet.”
“No!”
“Liar,” he said, striking my thighs three times. “I can smell you, MacKayla. I can smell your sex. And I bet when I spread your ass open, you’ll be dripping down your legs.”
Three more strokes, all of which I struggled through until finally, I heard the belt drop to the floor.
“Stay,” he said, removing his hand from my back. “Just like you are, so I can have a look, see if my hunch is correct.”
I remained in position, waiting, anticipating, the pain still hot and fresh. I felt him kneel behind me. He placed his hands on my ass, his caresses soft against my too hot, punished flesh as he parted my cheeks.
“You never answered my question earlier, MacKayla.”
I wiped a hand across my nose, his touch soothing, arousing.
“Do you like showing them your ass?”
I nodded as Slater’s fingers moved to touch between my legs.
“Spread your legs wider.”
With my hands flat on the seat and arms straight, I spread my legs, widening my stance.
“Arch your back.”
I did, his words, the shame I should feel, the pain of my punishment, all of it serving to heat my core through.
“Good.”
I felt his breath on my ass.
“Now answer my question.”
He pulled my cheeks wider, and I found myself lifting to him, not trying to hide, knowing he could see the trickle of arousal tickling my inner thigh as it dripped down my leg.
“Yes.” I would tell him the truth. I would give him what he wanted.
“Yes, you like showing them your pussy and your ass,” he said. “You want to come, don’t you, MacKayla? Make the pain go away?”
Just then his tongue licked the length of my pussy, up around my asshole, and back down. My gasp must have been answer enough for him, because he pulled me wider and did it again, this time circling his tongue over my asshole several times while one hand moved to my clit.
“Slater…”
“You’re dripping. I was right.”
He licked again, his touch on my clit rough, like I liked it. Slater pulled back then, smearing my juices on my thigh as he rose to stand, pulling me up with him.
“On your knees.”
I knelt, blind, legs wide, clit throbbing. He tugged the blindfold off my face.
“Put your hands behind your back, open your mouth, and look at me.”
My heart skipped a beat when I met his dark gaze and heard his zipper slide down.
“You�
��re going to suck my cock, and I’m going to come down your throat. Because you know what whipping your pretty little ass and tasting your cunt did to me?”
The scent of him made me heady, made me want.
He gripped a handful of hair and tugged my head backward, forcing my mouth open. I licked my lips when the head of his cock bounced up against my mouth, then closed them around the smooth flesh.
He moaned, his fingers digging into my head as he slid himself deeper into my mouth.
“It made me this fucking hard, MacKayla. And damn if your tongue doesn’t feel good on my cock.”
When he pushed too far, choking me, I shoved against his thighs, one hand tugging the blindfold off as I struggled to breathe. Slater held me fast, his grip tightening, giving me a moment to catch my breath before thrusting in again, hitting the back of my throat while watching my face, his eyes dark with desire until, finally, he stilled deep inside me, his cock thicker, throbbing, his face at peace as he came, his eyes closed. I swallowed, feeling somehow calmed myself while I watched him, and when he finished and opened his eyes again, the look in them was gentle.
He slid out and pulled his jeans up as he stepped away, his eyes locked on mine, the peace I’d seen a moment ago quickly fading. Was it a sort of guilt to replace what seemed too fragile to remain? I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that, when he walked away from me, in some strange way, I understood this man. We were so alike, more alike than he knew, perhaps. I owed Slater, but I also knew he was the one who held the key to my freedom.
As strange as it sounded, he was my salvation.
I SLEPT LATE the next morning. It was rare for me. I usually woke at the crack of dawn. But things had changed now. I’d found MacKayla and knew I wouldn’t see her until tomorrow night. She would be at the bookstore during the day and at the club tonight. Although I could go watch her, if I wanted to.
In a way, searching for her had given me a purpose, had made it possible to put all the shit that hurt too damn much out of my head. Now that I had her, though, everything I’d been running from seemed to be staring me in the face every waking moment. Every waking moment I wasn’t with MacKayla, that is.
I switched on my phone and dialed Dinah. She picked up on the fourth ring, sounding irritated, as usual.
“Hi, Slater. How are you?”
She answered as always, her voice cordial, nothing more. I still wanted a relationship with Mel, even if she wasn’t my biological daughter. Dinah couldn’t take that away, not if she and Nick didn’t want me sharing the DNA report with the public and destroying his career like he’d destroyed mine. He was CEO of my family’s charity. He’d been appointed soon after my departure. But if they knew the truth, knew he’d been fucking my wife, he’d be made to resign. Just like me. There was a morality clause in his contract. The reason I hadn’t yet used what I knew to destroy him was because I knew how much it would hurt Mel. I didn’t care about Nick and even less about Dinah, but I couldn’t hurt Mel. She was innocent.
But Dinah didn’t know that.
“I’m good. How’s Mel?” I called about Mel, that was all. Dinah would have no illusions of that.
“She’s good. She’s playing.”
I heard Mel call to Amelia, her nanny, in the background. Dinah had a nanny even though she didn’t do a thing apart from shopping and having lunches with her friends. Although I knew Amelia and truthfully, was glad for Mel that she had her. Amelia had worked for my father when I’d been little. She’d helped raise me, and I was glad she’d be a part of Mel’s life, even if I wasn’t any longer.
After a long moment, she asked, “Want to say hi?”
“Yeah. I do, actually.”
“Okay.”
I heard Dinah tell Mel I was on the line, noticed how she referred to me as Uncle Slater. It still hurt. It would probably always hurt.
Breathing on the phone alerted me to Mel’s presence. It made me smile, hearing the sounds she made.
“Hi, Uncle Slater.”
“Hi, honey.”
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I’m going to Disney World tomorrow!”
What the fuck?
“Tomorrow?”
“I’m going to see Olaf and Anna and…” she rattled off names I didn’t recognize but assumed to be Disney characters.
“That sounds like fun, honey. I’m excited for—”
“Byeeeeee,” she cut me off, and I could hear her footsteps as she ran away.
“Sorry, Slater. She just ran off.”
“You’re taking her to Disney tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
Thick silence ensued that you could cut with a knife. I still didn’t understand why, and the fact that it mattered pissed me off. Why had she done it? Why hadn’t they told me earlier? Why let things go so far?
“I have to go, Slater.”
“Fine. Buy her something at Disney from me, okay?”
“Okay.”
She hung up. She always hung up first.
MRS. DONNELLY AND I stood in the stockroom, unpacking boxes of a shipment that had just come in. With the town being so small, we never had huge orders, and I pretty much did the ordering myself. In fact, although I appreciated Mrs. Donnelly’s company, and I knew she appreciated mine, I didn’t like to see her rubbing her back as she helped me unload the books.
“Mrs. Donnelly, should we take a break and have some coffee? I’m fine to do this on my own later.”
“No, dear. I like helping. and you do everything around here as it is.”
“Okay, but at least take this box instead.” I put the box with the lighter paperbacks on the table in front of her. I’d take the hardbacks. It was funny, even though e-readers ruled most of the United States, Bandon, Oregon, seemed to be the last place where we still sold enough print books to keep the bookstore profitable enough to stay open. Truly, it was Mrs. Donnelly’s love of reading that did it, and I was glad to be a part of it. I loved my job at the bookstore, actually. It was a sanctuary for me, coming here. I wondered if Slater would come in, and if he did, if it would change things for me.
“What are you thinking about, honey?”
I glanced up to catch her eye. “Oh, just thinking how much I like working here.”
“Well, that makes two of us, then.”
The chime over the door sounded. My heart leaped like it did every time that happened, now even more since my conversation with Lydia.
“I’d better go see who that is, Mrs. Donnelly.”
“I’ll just keep unloading.”
Anxiety tightened my belly as I made my way toward the front. Some part of me wanted it to be Slater. Why? That question I didn’t have an answer for. But it turned out it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t him. Not even close.
I stopped dead, recognizing the man even though he had his back to me.
He turned, the grin on his face more terrifying than I remembered. He held a book and made a point of looking me over from head to toe.
“Long time no see, Mac.”
“Bill.”
My stepfather. How had he found me?
His gaze traveled over the little shop. “Nice little setup you have here.”
“What are you doing here?” My throat scratched like sandpaper, my voice a low, broken whisper.
He picked up a book from the nearest shelf without even looking at the cover and took a pen from the jar on the counter.
“Buying a book.”
He held the items up and smiled as if it were obvious. As if it was all he was doing.
“What do you want?”
He set the things down, and his expression lost the mocking humor of moments ago. Within two steps, he stood close enough to touch me. I remained rooted to the spot, too shocked, too frightened to move. I startled when his hands closed over my arms and squeezed.
“You didn’t even leave a note after all I’d done for you and my sweet, sweet Janey.”
The way h
e referred to Janey as my sweet, sweet Janey made me shudder. Made me want to vomit. A rage came over me.
“Anyway, you’re keeping busy, seems like, you know, dancing and all.”
“What do you want, Bill?” I fisted my hands at my sides. I was not powerless. I refused to allow him to terrorize me.
“You know, I think we should take that coffee break after all.”
I heard Mrs. Donnelly’s voice come from the direction of the stockroom.
“It’s heavy work, isn’t it?”
She paused when she turned the corner to see Bill and me standing as we were.
Bill released me and stepped back.
“Everything okay, Mac?”
She came over and stood close beside me.
I released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Bill took his wallet out, and I broke eye contact with him to walk behind the counter, willing Mrs. Donnelly to stay but knowing she should leave. She should get away from him. My stepfather was a very dangerous man.
“Everything’s fine.”
I rang him up, and he handed me a twenty-dollar bill.
“In fact, I’m Mac’s daddy. Isn’t that right, Hon?”
I met his gaze, both rage and fear at what this man could do. “Stepfather,” I said, making change. “Here you go.”
Bill took the money and stuffed it into his wallet before picking up the book and pen.
“Thanks.” He started walking toward the door.
“Oh, tell your sister hi when you talk to her again. That little kid of hers sure is growing up to be a cutie. Funny thing, she’s got the same eyes as you—one blue, the other violet.”
He shook his head as if just realizing that similarity, when in truth, he wanted to be sure I knew he knew where they were. That he could get to them as easily as he had me.
“I’ll see you later.”
Making certain I received the message he’d be back, he walked out the door, the chime ringing again.
“You okay? You seem shaken up,” Mrs. Donnelly said.
“Oh.” I shook my head, trying to clear anything that would give me away. “Bill brings back some bad memories.”
“He seemed a little strange to me. Those memories. Just remember, Mac, whatever happened when you were little is over. You’re a grown woman and on your own. No one, including your stepfather, has any control over you now.” Her eyes remained on the door as Bill drove away. “If you want to talk about it, honey…”
Beautiful Liar Page 6