Bound (Bound Duet Book 1)

by Stephie Walls

  “Gray…” I pled with only his name, but again, he shook his head. I was breathless and begging. “Please, Gray.” My forehead dropped to his sweaty shoulder. Pulling away from the door left my back chilled.

  Carrying me away, he glided into the kitchen and sat at the table with me in his lap—still connected. “You want control, Annie?”

  Confused, I stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. The sting from his hand smacking my bare ass startled me. My mouth was agape while I gawked at him, bewildered. Words sat on the tip of my tongue, but they never fell.

  “Do you want control, Annie?” he repeated.

  The authority in his tone caused my brain to malfunction, preventing my ability to think. He continued moving me in a satisfying direction, gripping my hips, but I couldn’t register anything beyond the erotic hum singing through my body.

  His palm connecting once again with my butt brought me back to a version of reality. I arched my back, offering my breasts to his perfectly aligned mouth; he took one, sucking hard.

  Smack.

  Holy shit, I loved the sting that bordered on pain but lingered in pleasure. The lavish attention, the pure bliss, the ache—it was beautiful—euphoric. I refused to allow the memories of the agony a slap could bring to enter my mind or the reason I’d grown to love the edge of discomfort. That had been abuse—this was love. I found leverage on the rungs under the chair he had perched us both in, and my heels ground into the wood to gain the control I wanted. I rode Gray like his body would take me straight to heaven.

  My thighs burned, and my fingers laced behind his neck. Right as he hit that sacred spot, my spine arched and my head splayed back. It was enough for him to remove the tie from my hair, allowing it to cascade freely, almost touching my butt. In true Gray form, he wrapped my chocolate tresses around his fist and tugged a deeper bow in my spine. The dance seemed choreographed and flawless. Our bodies heard a rhythm where there was no music and found a melody all our own. The slow, deep rock of my hips brought me to the peak of sexual frenzy. My moans were foreign to my ear. As I cried out in pleasure, I didn’t recognize the sounds. With one final plunge, he met me at the edge of the stage for a final bow before the curtain call. He tucked me into his body, and I slumped my head on his shoulder. Relaxed and sated, he picked me up, took me to the bedroom, and laid me down. Completely wrapped up in him, I fell asleep feeling the most loved I had in weeks.

  Chapter Eight

  Unfortunately, one night wouldn’t heal the months of neglect for either of us. We’d reconnected, but once we were both back to our normal routines, the world might try to devour us again. I’d been working my tail off at Walton’s, getting straight As in school, and waiting on Gray. I continued to drive myself forward with what I could control, striving for perfection in my career and in school, so my failure at home wasn’t so evident. As much as I wanted to let go of the hurt, he had broken me that day in Gatlinburg, and one night wouldn’t fix that. He knew it when he’d said it, but somehow, he hadn’t stopped the hurtful lashing before it had escaped his mouth. He’d had some weird compulsory obligation to ensure I was aware he wasn’t interested in getting married again or the commitment that led up to it. But I’d never asked him for any of that. I’d never asked him where our relationship was going, just took each day he gave me. One simple comment about a chapel and he had effectively taken me down with one shot, and we hadn’t been the same since.

  I’d had high hopes after Chiefs, but somehow, I’d let that slip through my fingers. Guarded and hurt, I’d lost the spark in my eyes that made him love me to begin with. The life had drained out of me. I had stopped seeing my shrink months ago, and I needed to reach out but hadn’t. If I hadn’t resolved the issues surrounding Will in this many years, it was unlikely I ever would. I’d played with a fucked-up hand dealt in someone else’s life, and I appeared destined to continue to accept that cycle. There’s no way Gray didn’t see my dull gaze—I knew he thought I was using again, but he wasn’t brave enough to ask. He was never home so he wouldn’t have known the difference, and if he confronted me, he’d have to admit it was a wild guess. He had no proof because he’d never seen me do it, and I certainly didn’t come home smelling like pot. Part of me believed he was too cowardly to question me because if I were smoking again, he’d have to acknowledge why, or at the very least what I was trying to escape—pain he’d caused with callous words he’d intentionally inflicted. Pot gave me a false sense of happiness because I laughed, I saw humor in everything, those nagging feelings of self-doubt didn’t bother me. He’d seen the spark again in my eyes that night at Chiefs. I knew the moment we’d connected—I saw it in his, too. We both needed to see it daily—we depended on it.

  Our relationship was taking up too much of my headspace in a negative manner. I spent more time with Jenny and Scarlett—that alone should have been an indication to Gray shit wasn’t on the up and up. Even Lynn had been riding my ass about who I hung out with. I was sure she’d told Gray he needed to pull his head out of his ass, but she wouldn’t betray me. Regardless of how much she didn’t like what I did, she’d deal with me directly.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, pulling me out of my Gray-induced funk long enough to see who texted me, although I likely wouldn’t care.

  Gray: What are you up to?

  Me: Leaving school to head to work. What are you doing?

  Gray: Working

  I didn’t know what else to say. I used to eat up his attention, but now, I spent my life waiting for him to show me affection, to make me his priority. I didn’t want to seem overly anxious or get my hopes up that this was anything other than a typical mid-day check in. The moment I’d put my phone back in my pocket, thinking the conversation was over, it vibrated again.

  Gray: Are you staying late?

  Me: No. Should be out by 5 pm

  Gray: I’ll be home around 715 pm. Want to get dinner?

  Me: I’m supposed to go to Jenny’s after work.

  Gray: Oh

  Me: Something wrong?

  Gray: Yeah, but nothing you did.

  Me: Are you okay?

  Gray: I will be.

  Gray: I shouldn’t ask, but will you cut it short with her & meet me at home?

  Me: You’re scaring me, Gray. Just tell me what’s up. Don’t make me wait

  Gray: Aww, Bird Dog. Don’t be scared. I miss you.

  Me: You said something was wrong…

  Gray: There is. I’ve ignored you & am a POS for it.

  Me: Okay

  Gray: Um…okay? Does that mean you agree I’m a POS?

  Me: No, Gray. It means I’ll change my plans.

  Gray: Hey, Bird Dog?

  Me: Yeah?

  Gray: I love you, baby. I’m sorry.

  I didn’t respond, but I didn’t think he could blame me. He hadn’t responded to me in months, just kept taking what he needed. I hoped he had tried to figure out how to fix this shit he’d completely fucked up because I neared the end of my rope.

  Regardless of how things had been between us recently, I couldn’t stop myself from getting excited about seeing him and spending time with him. I had this horrible habit, not only with him, but I’d done it with Will too, of believing one more day would fix everything, that my clinging to the relationship would somehow make the problems go away. That I could provide them with happiness, or be an answer to a question they weren’t aware they wanted answered. I couldn’t control Will’s issues any more than I could control Gray’s. There was nothing I could have ever done to make his stepfather stop abusing him other than do the one thing I’d refused to do—go to the police. And the one thing I absolutely had control over was allowing him to use my body to take his aggression out and justifying it as me loving him enough to offer him that release. Gray abused me but in a different way than Will had, but I still didn’t walk away. I had read enough about abuse and sat through enough hours of counseling to know, the cycle. I could identify it, the honeymoon period after
a storm—what I couldn’t do was escape it. Failure was my greatest fear, and if I gave up, I lost. I tried to keep my anticipation in check, but there had always been something about Gray, and there always would be. He had the ability to make the darkest days brighter, but on the flip side, he could take any day and make it unbearable.

  That was what made the cycle of abuse so difficult to escape, especially with Gray. He hadn’t physically hurt me; he didn’t leave bruises on my skin, just my heart. But the highs were so high they countered the lows making them seem insignificant. I held on for those peaks that carried me for days. It mirrored my depression, the mania was insufferable. Addicts, we craved the highs—it didn’t matter if it was a drug or a person—whatever got us there was worth the fall we suffered after. Everything in my life provided a high of some sort, a euphoria I had to have to counteract the valleys—I was an overachiever because I craved that high.

  I watched from the edge of the couch, hanging over the armrest, for his truck to pull into the parking space below. There was a pep in his step when he hopped out, and he appeared happy to be home. He took the stairs two at a time before he disappeared between the building and the staircase. My gaze shifted to the front door when he burst through it. He came in like someone chased him, and I just sat here, smiling like an idiot. My eyes were alight with joy seeing him. He didn’t say hello, just shut the door, stalked the few steps required for his long legs to reach the couch, plopped down next to me, and then pulled me onto his lap. I couldn’t help but giggle, and he was doing his best to keep the smile on my face.

  “Ew, Gray, you stink! You’re sweaty and need a shower!”

  He tickled me as I got the last complaint out, his fingers clutched my knee and caused me to throw my head back to laugh from deep within—the kind that shook my entire body.

  “God, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen when you’re alive like this.”

  I squirmed out of his lap, insisting he bathe before he touched me again.

  “Ten minutes, tops,” he said, “and then you’re all mine.”

  True to his word, ten minutes later, he was clean and back in the living room with a pair of jeans on and a white T-shirt, no shoes. He eyed me as though he wanted to say something. His head cocked to the side slightly, and then the grin I loved made an appearance.

  “Your hair’s gotten so long since we met. And darker. I swear it used to be a chestnut color, but it’s almost black now.”

  I tucked it behind my ear shyly. It was an odd observation, but it was Gray, and he came up with oddball stuff.

  “You’re so tiny on the couch. Beautiful, but tiny.” The way he talked would leave an outsider to believe he hadn’t seen me in months instead of hours.

  I stared at him awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to his revelations when I finally changed the subject. “Hey, I’m starving. What do you want for dinner?”

  He sat down next to me while I waited for his answer. “Do you want to go out?” His voice was almost childlike, trying to please me.

  I couldn’t help but look at how the two of us were dressed, and determined based on our attire, we wouldn’t be going anywhere. “I was thinking more like takeout, but we could go somewhere if I don’t have to change clothes.”

  “Chinese or pizza?” I loved Chinese, but he wasn’t a big fan, and I wasn’t crazy about pizza—one of us wouldn’t be happy with the choice.

  “Neither, I’m craving wings. We could go to Chiefs or Wild Wings,” I suggested.

  “Wings? Really?” He was shocked. I never wanted wings—that was something he did with his friends.

  “Is that okay? I thought you’d like the idea.” No matter what I did, it never seemed right anymore.

  “No, baby, I do. I didn’t think you liked wings. I wanted to get something you wanted. Go somewhere you wanted to go.”

  “I know, but I’ve been craving them all day.” I was on the verge of whining, and I couldn’t help but be annoyed while he appeared to think it was adorable.

  “Wings it is, but not Chiefs. We’ll go to Wild Wings. I figure Topher and the guys from work will be at Chiefs, and I don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with them. Wild Wings should be safe. My friends don’t typically do the downtown scene.”

  It hadn’t taken us long to get downtown, and either the wings were fantastic, or I was starving. Gray’s eyes grew wider with each one I picked up. Normally a lightweight when it came to food consumption, I ate all eight and ordered eight more, which I promptly inhaled like I hadn’t eaten in months. Luckily for me, I was so thin people didn’t think twice about what I put in my mouth. They were just jealous I could do it and stay this size. If they really knew how little I ate, they might have thought differently.

  After dinner, we wandered the sidewalks of downtown and held hands while we window gazed before winding up back at the truck. Parked at the top of the parking garage, it was a beautiful night and relatively warm. The stars were vivid for miles, and there was no one around.

  “You want to lay in the back of the truck and star gaze?” It was an odd request from Gray. He wasn’t the outdoorsy type, much less into astronomy, and he was even less of a romantic. But I agreed, and he released the tailgate to help me into the bed of the truck. On our backs, we stared at the stars and talked, not about anything in particular. We simply enjoyed being together, just like we should have been doing for weeks—the weeks he had pushed me out.

  With my head on his shoulder and hand on his stomach, I tilted my head up at him. In the sincerest way possible, I admitted, “I’ve missed you, Gray.” I quickly averted my stare, worried my confession might send him running with continued eye contact. He put that insecurity there—and he knew it.

  I closed my eyes when he lifted my chin to prevent him from witnessing the struggle to fight back the tears.

  “Baby, open your eyes and look at me.”

  Shaking my head, I tried to force my head back down. I hated crying, but more than that, I hated crying in front of anyone, especially Gray. He let me have this one and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry. I’ve been an ass, Annie. I don’t want to give you excuses. I promise I’ll do better.”

  I said nothing; not a muscle in my body moved. I thought even my heart had quit beating waiting on him to finish what he had to say. He squeezed me, kissed the top of my head, and I let out the breath I’d been holding in. Sitting up, he regarded my tear-stained face thoughtfully.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  The swing of the pendulum had hit our relationship again, and it seemed to right itself over the upcoming days and weeks. We had been spending more time together, and the sex had been out of this world. But now that he was around more, he noticed I was tired all the time and occasionally came home with a glassy look in my eyes. If he watched, the tells were the same, and all there. He had to know I was smoking with Jenny and Scarlett. I wasn’t doing coke—I’d kept that promise—but he had said nothing about either. I was still riding his guilt train. Had I stopped to think about it, I would have realized it was self-destructive. At some point, he would call me out, he’d be compelled to say something, and he would confront me, but I was betting he didn’t think he had the right to question anything I was doing after the shit he’d done the last few months. The eye for an eye mentality was wrong all the way around, but he continued to give me passes, and I continued to take them.

  Tonight was no different. I’d been working on a new project for Walton’s, and my stress level was high, so I went to Jenny’s after work to unwind. I realized it had gotten dusky outside but saw little point in rushing home—I could do my homework from anywhere. This was as good of a place as any. I heard my phone ring in the distance but was too lazy to get up to answer it and opted to let it go to voicemail. A few minutes later, the text messages started, so I put my homework down and went in search of the obnoxious noise beeping in my backpack.

  Gray: Are you okay?

  Me: Yeah, I’m fine.
What’s up?

  Gray: Where are you? I thought we were doing dinner?

  Me: Shit, Gray, I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll be home in 15

  Gray: Be careful

  Damn, damn, damn. I never forgot anything. I had a mind like a steel trap, and Gray was well aware of that fact. There was nothing I could do between here and the apartment to conceal my evening activities—the cause for my forgetfulness would be evident the moment I walked through the door. I was completely blitzed, and there was no way he’d wait any longer to address it. Fuck, this would not go well.

  “Where’ve you been?” The moment I crossed the threshold, the accusation hung in the air.

  “What do you mean? I was at Jenny’s.” I refused to make eye contact. I had hoped to avoid this confrontation, but angst was heavy in his voice.

  “Annie, we had plans tonight, and you didn’t show up.”

  “Gray, don’t make this into a big deal. I’m here now. Let’s go get something to eat.”

  Hell, he was coming full force, and there was no way I’d get off that easily.

  “Don’t make it a big deal? Annie, I’ve been sitting here for over two hours waiting on you. Then you come waltzing in the door, completely fucked out of your mind, and you don’t want me to make this a big deal?” He was way too loud and confrontational.

  Gray knew me well enough to know he was playing with fire. There were only two ways this would go: I’d either shut down completely or meet him head on in this confrontation. He guessed it would be the first. I never argued with him—anyone else yes, I’d stand my ground and fight, but Gray, never.

  I sat on the couch and silently stared at the floor. I couldn’t bring myself to argue with him. Whatever he said would be right, and I didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  “What are you on, Annie?” His tone was stern and unwavering.