Bound To

by Sionna Fox

“Nothing. I’m fine.” I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. I might be ready to have a quick drink after work with Sarah and her friends, but I was not ready to run into Matthew. Not yet. Not when I might still throw myself at his feet and beg forgiveness for being so stupid. “He’s not going to be here, is he?”

  I couldn’t even say his name out loud. Definitely not ready for the real thing, live and in person.

  “No. It’s girls only tonight.” Sarah bit her lip in an uncustomary show of indecision. “He hasn’t been around much. He’s working a lot.”

  I nodded. Was the lab busy? Or did I want to imagine he was throwing himself into his job because he needed to do something to keep himself occupied? Part of me wanted to ask, but I couldn’t do that to Sarah. She’d been too good to me to put her in between us. Not that there was an us for her to be in the middle of. It was over, had been over, for months. I had to keep reminding myself.

  Sarah ushered me to a cozy booth and packed me into it with several other women who were already chatting over cheap margaritas. I vaguely recognized a couple of faces from the night things had started to fall apart. Introductions were made all around.

  “What’s new in the smut-peddling business?” I think her name was Kate asked, after Sarah and I had placed drink orders. She was probably my age, with mischievous green eyes and long brown hair braided down her back. Her grin was broad and welcoming.

  “Ignore Kate, she gets mouthy without her master around to supervise,” someone else chimed in.

  “Do you see Ian here? I’m off tonight; I’ll do what I want.” She shrugged cheerfully and faced me with eyebrows raised. “Smut peddling?” She propped her chin on her hands and waited.

  “I’ve been wondering something, actually.” I glanced at Sarah. “We put out a call for a paranormal anthology, and some of the submissions have been…interesting. So werewolves are classic and I’ll give you lions and your charismatic pack predators: bears, cougars, whatever. That makes sense to me. But I can’t tell with some of the stories we’ve gotten if it’s parody or if someone really is out there fantasizing about this stuff? Like, sharks. How does that even work? The were-shark captures you and takes you to his sea-cave lair where miraculously there’s air for you to breathe? Is it supposed to be sexy? I mean, whatever does it for you, but my brain gets stuck on how you’re not drowning. And I’ve googled way too much animal genitalia in the last week trying to figure out how everything works.”

  I got a laugh out of the table, and everyone spent a few minutes trying to come up with more and more wildly improbable were-animals. It was surprisingly easy to get pulled into this odd group of women. Sarah gave me one of her I told you so eyebrows over their heads. Yes, yes, you were right. I stuck my tongue out at her. Because she was truly my friend as well as my boss, and I could. We ordered another round and a plate of nachos, lest we all get too rowdy.

  By the time we left, Sarah was telling me to come in late the next morning.

  “Thank you for making me come out.”

  “I’m glad you finally did. I’ll see you in the late morning, Jolene.”

  She walked off and I descended the steps into the warm, humid air of the station. I was bursting to tell Izzy about my night out like a kindergartner who made a new friend at school. I could do this. I was doing this. I smiled to myself while I waited for my train.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Work was busy as we went headfirst into conference season, and I had a string of new invitations to keep me from sitting in my apartment alone every night. I’d never had a gang of girlfriends, never thought I’d want one. I’d have to stay out later than I wanted to or hang out in places I was uncomfortable. I rarely had the energy for it. I preferred couch dates with Izzy and takeout to bars, and I’d never even set foot in a club.

  Maybe it was the difference in being friends with adults rather than college kids, but no one batted an eyelash or got offended when I begged off in favor of TV and my pj’s. Half the time, Kate kept me company on my couch. I didn’t have to hide the fact of my anxiety with these women. I was certainly learning to manage it better, between therapy and meds, but I didn’t have to pretend it didn’t exist when I had a rough day. It was a thing about me, but it didn’t have to be the thing. And the more I kept busy, the less I could think about Matthew, to the point where I finally let Sarah and Kate talk me into going out so they could introduce me to potential tops.

  I sat at a table with Kate and Ian, who had a bit of a silver-fox thing going on. Kate joked that it was fake, to lend him gravitas—which I didn’t see him lacking—when a little, black raincloud came to join us.

  “Time to go, kitten.” Ian made Kate stand, but she glared daggers at Simone as she did.

  He leaned in to whisper, “Best to walk away if you don’t want to hear it. We’ll be on the other side of the bar.” He squeezed my shoulder and led Kate away.

  “Can I sit?” Simone uncrossed her arms to indicate the chair next to mine. Whatever she had to say to me, she didn’t look happy about it.

  I fought the urge to get up and walk away and nodded instead.

  She plopped down, still looking extremely reluctant. “I need to get this out, then I’ll leave you alone.”

  Who was forcing her to talk to me and what did they have against me? “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry.” She said the words like they were ashes in her mouth.

  I raised an eyebrow for her to go on. I wanted to know what, exactly, she was apologizing for.

  She trained her eyes on the ceiling as she spoke in a rush. “I’m sorry I did that before. Told you that you were Matt’s project. I thought I was helping, because I didn’t want you to get hurt, being new and everything, but it wasn’t my place.”

  “Thank you.” I couldn’t help wondering if she had a new dom who was putting her up to this, making amends with people she’d hurt by stirring the pot. I bit my tongue. Hard.

  “So?” Did she think a reluctant apology was going to make us into new best friends?

  “You want me to forgive you?” She gave a tiny nod. I sighed. I’d had months to think about this. I spoke slowly. “I appreciate that you said you’re sorry. I hope you’ll make different decisions in the future.”

  “Oh.” Her face fell for a second before she pasted an indifferent scowl back on.

  “I don’t hate you, Simone. But that’s the thing about making amends, the other person doesn’t have to forgive you. It does help when you actually mean it, though.” I stood to join Kate at the other side of the bar, head high, heart pounding but feeling like a badass for getting the last word. Then I got taken out at the knees.

  Matthew. Matthew talking to Ian. I hoped to hell I had made it out of Simone’s line of sight. It would have ruined the effect of being the one to walk away if I only made it ten steps before I crumbled. I wanted to run. To him, away from him, my body was confused into freezing. I stood there like a deer in headlights. How did he always do that to me?

  It was him. He made Simone go talk to you. She had tried to apologize to him first, because of course she would, he was the person who mattered to her. And he would have told her the person she owed it to was me.

  Had he known I would be there? Had he planned to stay out of sight the whole evening? Had Kate and Ian known he was there and purposefully drawn me over to that side of the room after my confrontation? If this was a setup, I would be furious.

  As I stood there frozen with indecision, Matthew looked me up and down, assessing the state of me after months apart. My eyes never left him either. He’d lost weight and the shadows under his eyes suggested late nights and little sleep. Sarah hadn’t lied. He’d been miserable. My heart cracked. He didn’t deserve misery or pain.

  One of us was going to have to move if we didn’t want to stand in place until closing time. I had to choose, toward or away. I gave him a tiny smile and tilted my head at an open table in the far corner.

  We sat, and I watched him fidget, picking at scratches in th
e table with his fingernails. He looked worse close up. He needed a haircut and his cheeks were hollowed and haphazardly stubbled, like he hadn’t been shaving regularly and did a rush job of it tonight.

  “What are you doing here, Matthew?” If I could hold on to some small sliver of anger at being set up by my friends, I might be able to make it through this conversation without launching myself into his lap and begging him to make me his again.

  “Evie.”

  Goddammit. The one person I wouldn’t dare retaliate against. Evie would have been counting on it. She was the tiniest, sweetest, scariest person I’d ever met aside from Nana.

  Matthew smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure I was going to talk to you. She told me you were…putting yourself out there again. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

  “I’m not a child, Matthew.”

  “I know. I know Sarah and Evie and Ian and Kate wouldn’t let anything happen to you either. I know that.”

  “But you had to see for yourself.”

  He nodded.

  “You sent Simone to apologize.”

  “I did.”

  “It would have been more effective if she could have said it without looking like she’d been asked to drink battery acid.”

  Matthew huffed softly. “I know. You handled her well.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s—” He stopped and struggled to continue. “It’s good to see you happy. I’m proud of you, little mouse.”

  I hadn’t heard that name in nearly five months. I couldn’t stop myself from beaming that he was proud of me. I could keep struggling on, try dating other people, but the spark of happiness in me just from sitting at the same table with him refused to die.

  Only I wasn’t his little mouse anymore either. I had moved to Vermont and back, started a new job, made new friends. I had clutched to my own insecurities and walked away from him rather than face that I was in love with him and terrified. I broke my own heart. Then I put it back together, with a lot of help and support, and yes, some store-bought neurotransmitters.

  Fuck it. I scooted my chair closer and took his hands. “I’m not your little mouse anymore. But I missed you. I missed you before it was even over.”

  He stared at my hands on his, lips parted. “What do you mean you missed me before it was over?”

  “You had pretty much already left. After Thanksgiving, you pulled away. You didn’t…we stopped…doing anything new, and you were spending more time at work and it felt like you were avoiding me. You asked me to move in with you when I lost my job, and all I could think was what was the point, because you were about five minutes from being completely bored with me and over it.”

  “I didn’t...fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pulled his hands away and dragged them through his hair, staring at the ceiling. “I fucked up. I was worried about you. After that night when you came back from Vermont and had a panic attack, and then Simone sticking her nose in when I knew you were nervous already about meeting my friends.” He squeezed my hands and finally looked me in the eye. “I was worried I’d pushed too hard, too fast. I wasn’t bored, I thought you needed space, some time to process.”

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  It was his turn to flinch. “And that was incredibly fucking wrong of me.” He didn’t make excuses, or worse, try to play it off that making assumptions about your partner’s needs was somehow part of being a dom. “I should have talked to you, should have trusted you to tell me what you needed. I’m sorry.”

  It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. “You should have. And you will next time. We’ll do better.”

  He nodded and looked at me, brown eyes full of warmth and hope. I let go of his hands, climbed into his lap, and kissed him silly.

  “Finally!” Kate and Sarah whooped in triumph behind us.

  We parted and I tucked my face into his neck, where it belonged.

  “We seem to have acquired and audience.”

  “So take me home.”

  He startled underneath me. “Are you sure?”

  “To talk. Talk first, at least.” I smiled slyly into his neck and inhaled the scent of his skin behind his ear. The smell of him kicked me in the gut with how much I had missed him.

  We hurried out to a chorus of lecherous cheers, and Matthew packed us into a cab. I gave the address for my apartment, needing to keep some veneer of control in the situation. Every cell of my body wanted to skip right on past talking and drag him straight for the bedroom. My brain was holding on but slipping, best to do this on my own turf. Matthew was quiet, but didn’t let go of my hand until we pulled up outside my door.

  He paid the driver while I struggled with shaking hands to get my key in the door and get him upstairs already. He placed a hand on the small of my back as he followed me, and I fumbled with my keys some more. Once inside, I pointed him to the couch but stayed on my feet.

  “I have to say this.” I waited until he tipped his chin for me to go on. “I did miss you. I missed you so much. And I didn’t want to hurt you, but I don’t regret it. I needed to do it. I thought I had to prove I could do everything on my own, but I actually had to learn how to ask for help. I don’t think I would have done that if I had stayed here with you.”

  He swallowed and nodded again, but didn’t speak.

  “Simone wouldn’t have gotten to me if I wasn’t insecure already. All she did was put a name on it for me. I couldn’t fathom why someone like you would want to be with someone like me. And she caught me at the exact moment when I was feeling like you were going to wake up and realize that I wasn’t enough. Every time you pulled back after that, it was just confirmation that she was right, so when I lost my job, I ran.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you go. I should have talked to you. I should have told you how I felt. How I feel. I should have fought for you.”

  “I wouldn’t have let you. My doubts were eating me alive. I could have moved in with you, and I still would have been waiting for the other shoe to drop because I didn’t trust myself, or you. I didn’t think you’d stay if you knew who I was. Or that you’d try to save me, and I’d end up hating you for it.” I inched closer to the couch. “I had to figure out how to be more of a semi-well-adjusted adult for a while.”

  “I always knew who you were. I hate that I ever made you feel like I wanted to fix you. Or that you being fixed was somehow a condition of our relationship. You’re enough. You’ve always been enough. I’m sorry I ever let you doubt that. And I meant it back there, little mouse, I’m so proud of you. You seem so much happier and at ease.”

  “I had help.” I shrugged and tiptoed closer to his reach. “And if I’d stayed holed up in Vermont any longer, my mother probably would have strangled me.”

  “I’m glad you had Izzy, and Sarah, Evie, Kate and that whole crew.” He ran his fingers through his hair, which had gotten shaggier in our months apart.

  “It’s more than just them. I finally dragged my ass to therapy.” I took a deep breath. “And you should know that I’m taking daily meds. I don’t know how that might change how I respond to things.”

  “Does Sarah know that?”

  “I asked her for a recommendation. Why?”

  “It makes more sense now. I wanted to talk to you the minute you left. I would have come to see you as soon as you came back, but Sarah convinced me to leave you alone and let you find your feet.”

  “I’m glad you listened to her.” I sat on the coffee table, our knees barely touched. “She was right.”

  “She usually is. And now?” He picked up my hand.

  I pulled my feet up and wiggled my toes for him. “Feet found.”

  “Wrap your legs around me.” He slid me off the coffee table and into his lap.

  “One more thing.”

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t call me mouse. I meant it back there, I’m not your little mouse anymore. No one calls me that. Not Izzy, not you. I’m not that person.”

  “What wou
ld you like me to call you?”

  “Use my name. You can earn back pet names later.”

  “Of course, Jolene.”

  I kissed him and clasped my legs around his back as he picked me up and flew into my bedroom.

  He tossed me onto the mattress. I bounced and giggled as he started to tear my shirt over my head and work the clasp of my bra. “I don’t think I can be slow or gentle about this. Not right now.”

  “Don’t be.”

  I rolled up to my knees and attacked his shirt buttons with equal fervor. We stripped each other, stopping to kiss and suck and bite at the skin we exposed. I rubbed my face into his chest like a cat, inhaling the spicy, woodsy smell of him I had missed so much, feeling his chest hair soft and springy against my cheeks.

  My hands traveled all over his back and chest, down his flat stomach to trail through the line of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his pants. I traced the outlines of his erection with the tips of my fingers until he forced my hands away. He knocked me to the mattress flat on my back and pinned my wrists above my head. I squirmed under him as heat flooded my system. God, I missed this.

  One-handed, Matthew pulled off my skirt and panties. His gaze roved over my body, drinking me in like it was the first time he’d seen me naked, exposed, and wet for him. He dove for my neck and sucked the sweet spot where it sloped into my shoulder.

  “You are so fucking beautiful, Jolene.” He pulled away. “Keep your hands above your head.” He let go of my wrists and arched one perfect, dark eyebrow at me, his shaggy hair hanging in his face making him look dangerous in my shadowy bedroom.

  “Yes.”

  “Good girl.”

  Those two words still had the power to make me melt. His hands dropped to my thighs and spread them wide, the instinct to flinch and close my legs burned away with the thrill of being back under his control. I lay open to him, wet and waiting. His thumbs parted my labia and exposed me completely. He leaned in and made one, long swipe up the center with his tongue. My eyes rolled back in my head as my hips fought his grip to seek his hot mouth again.