He was bemused by the woman’s interest, which was quickly followed by detailed directions. The caution that people weren’t welcome at Knoll House even though the lady who lived there was a nice little thing, who always supported the stores in town and never bought from the outsiders, although she was a bit odd one might say, was offered as an afterthought.
He left his vehicle at the gate and walked the rest of the distance. The two large dogs he had seen in the pictures raced toward him, bellowing threats and assuming aggressive stances, but Kyle calmly forged ahead, and they separated and fell in beside him, providing an escort of sorts. He saw several cats sprawled on and around the porch, and in a chair by the door, rocking with what appeared to be a baby deer on her lap, was Tabitha. Kyle came to a halt at the foot of the one stair up to the porch and spoke her name. She stared at him without a hint of recognition, and his gut tensed.
“Tabitha, I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart,” he told her, “I couldn’t stay away.”
Tabitha set the little deer down and waited until it got its feet under it.
She then stood up and said, “My name is Tara Larson,” before turning to open the door. She went through it, and it closed behind her.
Kyle shook his head and followed her. He found himself in a warm, inviting space, full of wonderful cooking smells and the underlying taint of turpentine. He looked around for Tabitha, but there was no sign of her, and his eye was drawn to the stairs. He climbed them and looked into what clearly was the master bedroom, sheer curtains billowing at each window and a plump counterpane covering the small bed in the center of the room. A heavy armoire stood against the windowless wall. A glance into the empty bathroom left the last room Tabitha must have gone into, and he found her there, surrounded by paintings, scrutinizing one on an easel positioned to make the most of the amazing late afternoon light that flooded the room.
“Tabitha.”
She looked at him and repeated, “My name is Tara Larson.”
Kyle stepped into the room and was struck by the immediate assault of the canvasses. They were primarily nature scenes, and the colors blazed or conversely muted and blended together, but they all reached out to him as if seeking something. He looked away to see her watching him, still without apparent recognition, and reached out to her again.
“I’ve come to see you, Tabitha, and explain something to you. You deserve an explanation and an apology, too,” he offered. “May I talk with you for a few minutes?”
She stared back, seeming to consider his words, then shrugged. She sidestepped him and walked down the hallway and into her bedroom. He followed her, and she turned to face him, raising her hands to the buttons on her sundress, loosening them and allowing the garment to slide off her shoulders to the floor. She wore nothing underneath. She was so thin, her ribs clearly visible and her hipbones jutting away from her pelvis. A patch of dark pubic hair decorated her mound, and her breasts sat high on her chest, the dark-red nipples a startling contrast to the rest of her white skin. Kyle warred with an intense desire to fuck her and the need to cover her, care for her. Tabitha backed to the bed and laid back on it, squirming her way up so that her head rested on the lone pillow. She spread her legs and waited. Kyle fought the urge to throw himself on her and accept her surrender, her submission, except it was hardly that. He didn’t know this woman, as she likely didn’t know herself.
“Get up, and get dressed,” he told her. “I’ll wait downstairs for you.”
She followed him a few minutes afterward, wearing the same sundress, and sat opposite him at the table. Kyle wondered where to start. He was beginning to get anxious. Anxious and uncomfortable.
“Why did you do that, Tabitha?” he asked her. “Why did you offer yourself like that to me?”
“My name is Tara Larson, but Tabitha thought you’d take the fuck and leave. There isn’t anything more here to offer you.”
Kyle’s insides turned to ice, and he took a moment to compose himself. He began to explain to her about how he always videoed the women who agreed to participate in his kink, although he got written permission before using the tapes in training. He didn’t tell women beforehand because spontaneity was vastly important for proper training. Most of the women, he assured her, were comfortable being on tape. He deleted any footage of those who indicated differently. He explained that the camera and the lighting were wired together and that he hadn’t bothered to disconnect them because it had just been her and him in the playroom once he had met her. He hadn’t wanted anyone else. He could understand that people might see it as an invasion of privacy, but the women who wanted to participate in BDSM activities essentially accepted forms of exhibitionism and wanted to see the footage. He recognized now that it was wrong because he was trying to stop being an egotistical boor.
He shared that he also hadn’t told her that she had been videoed because that night had been different for him, and he’d deleted the footage without even looking at it and every bit of footage thereafter, knowing it was something he would never share with anyone. Something that he didn’t need to watch. He had her. He had known long before that night that she was his and his alone forever. He detailed how his computer was hacked via a virus at Unleashed and how many private files were stolen, including the one he had deleted of her. Kyle saw Tabitha’s tiny flinch when he spoke of that, and it gave him hope, for she wasn’t as disconnected as she had first presented. He hoped she didn’t think of all the additional footage that could have been used.
“I should have taken you straight home that night instead of going back with Andrew. I should have told you I videotaped you. You might have told me then, because I finally figured out what this is all about, Tabitha.”
She sat silently, staring at him. He couldn’t read her, couldn’t read the woman he had lived with, knew intimately, had trained in a lifestyle that ultimately had been to fully meet both their needs. And yet, he hadn’t told her he loved her.
He continued, “I figured out that it wasn’t about seeing yourself that night at Unleashed, although that was an embarrassing, humiliating experience for you. I figured out that you took a long time and a huge risk and not a little courage to give yourself to me, to surrender and submit, but most of all to trust me, to trust yourself for the first time. You told me that in every way, long before the playroom, and I videotaped you anyhow because I couldn’t let myself believe you were the One until I had all of you that night. I didn’t trust you. And I ended up making you feel you meant nothing more to me than the other women, although that absolutely isn’t true. But I hadn’t even told you how much I love you, and I regret that the most. I am a coward. Deep down, I was afraid of total commitment.”
He waited anxiously, yet still, she said nothing.
“I waited that night in your hotel room and planned to use our kink to get you to talk to me. I didn’t know any other way. I was angry because you ran and because I didn’t want to accept that I had done something so wrong. Most of all, I couldn’t face how much pain I caused you. Then I tried to let you go. I told myself that was what you needed, but it isn’t true. I’ve come to tell you how sorry I am, and to beg you to be my wife. I’ve come to fix this.”
Tabitha stood and walked to look out the window, folding her arms across her breasts, hugging herself.
“I’m living my ‘after Kyle life,’” she said, “and while it isn’t a happy life, I’m living it on my terms. I have enough money, I have my painting, and I have the animals. I don’t need anything else.”
She turned and looked directly at him, the silver in her hair catching the light.
“It was a pretty speech, Kyle, and really quite intuitive. But it changes nothing. You want, and you need. I don’t.”
Kyle surged to his feet and made to approach her.
She held up her hand and said, “You can’t fix this because you can’t fix me. I’m broken. Tabitha is broken. Forever. Now go.”
She was totally calm and resolute and looked at him with
empty eyes.
Kyle nearly staggered through the door as he heeded Tabitha’s edict. He felt totally powerless against her and knew it was because he was guilty. There was no room for misunderstanding. By the time he reached the car, Kyle had accepted the truism of actually feeling one’s heart break. He had lost her forever and now had to live with that fact. He wondered at the years ahead and how he would fill them, if he had anything like her courage.
* * * *
Tara Larson sat on the porch and watched the dust from Kyle’s vehicle gradually fade as it settled back to the roadbed. She had nearly let him back into her life. Part of her believed him and longed for him so badly that she felt ill from the loss. She didn’t know what would have happened if he had taken her offer of sex and wished he had seen through her defenses. But the past had intervened. She had taken the chance with him and found him to be false and as untrustworthy as the people in her life before him. Only that time, she had chosen to take the chance. She had trusted herself. She hadn’t had the choice before where her family was concerned. So she blamed herself even more than she blamed Kyle, having had lots of time to reflect and self-flagellate. It was better that he had left. She would re-bury Tabitha and continue to mark the days. People in the Witness Protection Program did it all the time. She dropped her face into her hands and wept.
* * * *
Kyle got up from his seat in the VIP lounge at the airport. He was a total fucking coward. How could he have just walked away from Tabitha for the second time? How had he let his woman, his perfect submissive, push him away? Again? She was in a terrible state, and it had undermined his intent. She hadn’t adjusted, hadn’t found a new life. She had regressed in order to cope and had pushed him away just like she had done with everyone else all those years just to survive. He had plucked her from an empty life, occupied only with a career, and taught her the pleasures of intimacy and love. He had changed her life totally, become her life, and then let her down. He had torn away everything. Tabitha was in no frame of mind to listen to reason. That therapist had been both right and wrong. Tabitha was indeed broken. She had regressed back to being the shattered child from her past and adopted a persona to protect that child. But he had made a grave mistake in not forcing his will upon her and helping her cope.
Tabitha was nothing like the young woman his cop friend was married to, him and his friend. Not even close. Although Alexandra had been right in urging him to find her. He, Kyle, was the Dominant and had stepped out of his role with his submissive. While Tabitha essentially had the power in their relationship, she could only wield it when he was being who he truly was. The betrayal she experienced because of his carelessness aside, the terror she must have felt when she used up all of her reserves to escape him and plan a life without him was on him, too. He only hoped that he had the strength to bring her back to him. He cursed his weakness and decided instead to have the strength, no matter what it took. Tabitha was about to be trained once again and return to being that secure, loving, wonderfully sexual woman she had become until she saw that film clip of herself and believed herself to be betrayed, that she had betrayed herself in giving him her trust.
Kyle waited impatiently at the car rental kiosk, furious that he had missed two opportunities to sort the matter through that very night. Tabitha might not have been able to sit comfortably for a week, let alone walk without a sore pussy the next day, but she would have seen reason and not allowed her past to overwhelm her. Their relationship would have withstood his carelessness and have been forged in love and passion. The car rental woman looked surprised to see him, clearly remembering when he had dropped off the SUV earlier.
“Sir?” she queried.
“I want a long-term rental,” he brusquely advised. “A bigger SUV, for maybe a month.”
He managed to be patient as she sorted through options and spoke of rates and insurance, finally scrawling his name across the contract and sealing it with his gold card. Then he was on the road to Tabitha’s, pulling out his phone to call his manager and arrange for a month’s vacation. He didn’t expect his mission to take as long as that, but there was the property to dispose of or at least rent, and the animals to place. He would take of everything. Kyle was sure there was no store in the near vicinity to provide some of the items he thought he might require to deal with Tabitha, but he was always good at improvising. And he could have things couriered if he needed them. He planned as he drove, the miles fading behind him.
* * * *
Tara Larson wearily pulled herself to her feet and made her way up the stairs to her monk’s cell. Her house no longer felt the haven that she had tried so hard to construct. She wasn’t sure that she could continue to fill her days and avoid thinking. Kyle’s arrival had Tabitha wanting more. Yet she hurt so badly. She also felt sickened by the memory of Roger Bend and wondered at her resolve to kill him. Kyle’s reappearance in her life had turned her carefully constructed new reality upside down, and even now, her hands itched to touch him, and her pussy ached emptily. She searched for the anger she should be feeling for his presumptuous interference in her life but could only find a sense of sadness and deep loss. How on earth was she to go on now that she had again been reminded of what she had lost, given up, when she left Kyle? His explanation and apology echoed in the empty places in her brain, and she remembered how badly she wanted to run after his car, to tell him she accepted it. And him. God, she would die thinking this way. She would sleep and start tomorrow rebuilding from the inside out. She was strong enough. She had to be.
The barking of the dogs woke her, and she struggled to her feet, reaching for her robe. Roger Bend. It had to be. And he might have brought his cousin. She wouldn’t let him touch her again. Kyle was the only one she wanted to touch her, and he was gone forever. She took the pistol from the dresser drawer and loaded it, prepared to shoot Roger and anyone else with him. If necessary, she would kill herself, something that seemed more attractive by the minute as the pounding on the door started.
“Tabitha! Tabitha, open the door!”
Tabitha stared blankly toward the top of the stairs. She was known as Tara. How could Roger Bend…oh God, it was Kyle. She made her fingers loosen to let the gun fall to the bed and then forced her feet to move. Slowly, she descended the stairs, holding onto the railing with a death grip as Kyle’s shouts for her to wake up and open the door resonated along with the dogs’ whines and howls. Tabitha threw the door open just as Kyle must have decided to kick it in. He half fell across the threshold and took her down with him to crash onto the floor. He somehow managed to turn with her enough to avoid crushing her, and they came together face-to-face. She knew her eyes were telling him of both her fear and her need, and Kyle didn’t hesitate. He took her mouth with a kiss that told her of every strong emotion that he had for her. He possessed her mercilessly, and she softened against him and opened her mouth to allow him entrance.
Kyle struggled to his feet with her, still kissing her, and kicked the door shut in the startled animals’ faces. He made his way to the couch and lowered her, his hands stripping the robe away then tearing the fine lawn of the nightgown from her body. He lifted over her and freed his erect cock from his jeans, then forged up inside her. He didn’t test her readiness. It didn’t matter. She was his and would accept him.
Kyle’s cock dragged against her sensitive tissues, and Tabitha struggled to catch up with his passion. Moisture that she hadn’t felt in all the intervening months flowed to facilitate his invasion, and the bite of pain swiftly changed to pleasure. She thought she must be dreaming. Kyle bit down on her shoulder in that oh, so sensitive spot as he thrust harder and twisted his hips. Tabitha began to pant at the familiar coil of sensation building within and felt Kyle reach between them to pinch her clitoris just as he spent himself within her. She cried out his name as she climaxed and arched into him. He collapsed and pinned her to the cushions with his heavy weight, and she reveled in the feeling. Kyle kissed her sweaty temple and pushed up and o
ff of her. He crouched beside the couch and just looked at her. She stared back at him. For a long moment, silence reigned.
“You are coming home, Tabitha,” Kyle decreed.
Tabitha just continued to stare at him.
“I will help you sort out things here, for as long as it takes, but then you are leaving and returning to live with me as my wife.”
Tabitha began to breathe rapidly. Kyle fixed her with his gaze and shook his head. “There will be no debate, Tabi-cat. We will talk further in the morning once you have been disciplined.”
Tabitha felt her mouth set in a stubborn line. “I’m different now, Kyle. Don’t think that a quick fuck changed anything.”
Kyle yanked her off the couch and set her on her feet. He pushed her toward the stair and slapped her buttocks to move her along.
“Get to bed, and watch your mouth, Tabitha. I won’t tolerate such language from you.”
When she turned to protest, Kyle gave her another gentle shove and slapped her again for emphasis. She looked hard at him and then reached to touch between her legs as his seed flowed from her body and onto her thighs. She looked into his eyes. Kyle shrugged and pointed upstairs. She grudgingly began to climb them ahead of him and felt his eyes on her, studying her body. She knew she was really thin and wondered that he still found her attractive.
Tabitha washed up in the bathroom while Kyle readied himself for bed, in her bedroom! He had fucked her without a condom, although he must have considered that she wouldn’t be using protection anymore. So he either didn’t care if she became pregnant or his need for her had overcome his control. No, Kyle never lost control. She touched her belly and wondered, then went to join Kyle. He was standing by the narrow bed, holding her Glock.
“Why do you have a hand gun, Tabitha?” he asked.
Tabitha shrugged then flinched before his hard look. “There is a man in town who is bothering me. He is threatening to shoot my animals if I don’t, well, if I don’t have sex him.”
Young, Allyson - Broken [Running to Love 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 9