Bound and Unbroken
By Skye Callahan
Copyright 2014 Skye Callahan
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events and locations is entirely coincidental.
Published: Skye Callahan
February 25, 2014
United States of America
[email protected]
Cover art by Skye Callahan
Copyright 2014
Stock Images used acquired from Depositphotos
Girl in Chains, Copyright: Maks08
Intimate Moments Copyright: Alex_L
The characters, situations, and locations in this book are fictional. Anyone interested in experimenting with BDSM should conduct research first and know what to expect. Ask questions, communicate, and don’t take a single person’s word as truth.
This book contains explicit sexual content (including BDSM themes), graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: M/f anal play and sex, bondage, spanking, exhibitionism.
Trigger Warning:
In addition to the content mentioned above, there are scenes that deal with self-harm and discussion of previous sexual assault. If you have difficulty with any of these subjects, proceed with caution.
Lena
This was the last place Lena wanted to be on a Friday night. The smell of beer stung her nose, while some sports game blared on the screen over the bar. At least the bar wasn’t completely packed, Diggers was one of those edge-of-the-town sports bars that usually only drew in a few loyal locals. All of whom were paying more attention to the game than the lone young woman sitting at the bar with a black cherry mojito.
And as far as Lena was concerned that was fine. She wouldn’t have come in the first place if her roommate, Jeremiah, hadn’t insisted that she needed to get out of the house and have some fun. And now he was off at the other end of the room striking it up with some old friend.
Swirling her drink around, she wished she had dug in her heels and refused to leave the house. To which, Jeremiah would have probably responded by swinging her over his shoulder and throwing her onto his bike.
He wanted her to let go and move on, and that was fine, but Lena in a sports bar wasn’t moving anywhere. Crowds, noise, and the smell of booze didn’t spell a good time; it just forced her further into her own head.
“Tall Smithwicks,” said a male voice.
She looked up to see a tall, dark-haired man taking the bar stool next to her. He glanced in her direction once, but turned his attention to the beer as soon as the bartender slid it across the wooden bar. The bartender nodded, then moved back to the other side of the bar where a couple of college students were getting rowdy over empty shot glasses.
She tried not to stare at the new guy sitting just inches away, but he was invading the small bit of territory she’d laid claim to. Although, it could have been worse. At least he wasn’t a member of the loud and rowdy college crowd.
You’re such an old lady, she told herself. Always more interested in curling up on the couch to watch old movies or read than join in with people her age.
But she still couldn’t manage to keep her eyes to herself, and to give him his well-deserved credit, he was handsome. He wore a black T-shirt with faded sports cars splashed across the front, and dark jeans. Both just tight enough to leave no doubt that there was a well-built man underneath the layers of material. As he downed half of his drink in a few gulps, Lena wondered how anyone could be that fond of beer. She always thought it tasted like mildewed wood, but as she watched him, she felt strangely tempted to give it another shot.
He glanced in her direction again, and she turned her gaze to the sports game, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her watching him. But there was no passing off the excess of blood warming her face as casual.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn slightly on his stool to face her. Busted.
“You always hang out at the bar alone?”
She kept her eyes on the TV. “That all you got for an opening line?”
“I'm rusty.” He took another long swig of beer, but his eyes remained trained on her.
“Rusty, eh? Nice name.”
He chuckled, sliding the empty glass to the back of the bar. “Unless you want to know my real name.”
Lena pursed her lips to keep back a smile. “Let's stick with Rusty, for now.” Straightening her back, she met his gaze—she could play this game.
“What should I call you, loner?”
“That works.”
Rusty winked, then nodded toward the television. “You a fan?”
“Not really.” She realized the implication of her admission a little too late. Now, he’ll wonder why you were staring at the screen.
“Then, you're in the wrong place tonight, sweetheart.”
“Glutton for punishment I guess.”
Rusty's eyes narrowed, but he snapped his gaze away and towards the screen, wincing what she guessed was a bad play.
“You like the white-shirts?” Lena asked. She had no idea who the teams were or where they were from and didn’t care to find out.
“White-shirts? You’re really not a sports fan. And yeah, I, guess I'm a glutton for punishment, too.” He motioned for the bartender, who was still caught up in some heated debate at the other end of the bar. Rusty lifted his empty glass, and a few minutes later, it was replaced with another, full of deep amber liquid.
The bartender turned to Lena, “He is bothering you?”
Caught off guard, Lena glanced between the bartender and Rusty, her mouth hanging open without a response as they both watched her.
“Thanks Cade, I was having a nice conversation until you scared the lady.” Rusty said, reaching over the bar to punch the bartender in the shoulder. “Good to see you again, too.”
The bartender chuckled, “Welcome home, man. This beer's on the house, I hear you could use it.”
“Then how about you throw in another drink for Loner, too.”
“I…” Lena felt her face flush as both sets of eyes fell on her again. “Fine. If it's on the house, I'm game.”
“But not if I bought it?” Rusty asked as the bartender walked away to prepare Lena's drink.
“Nope.”
He groaned, smiling as he turned back to the game. “I see how it is.”
“See how what is?”
Rusty simply lifted his eyebrows and swigged away at his drink.
Lena tried to take a deep breath without drawing attention to herself, but despite her better judgment, he was getting to her, and she was egging him on. After the bartender delivered her drink and promised to intervene if Rusty got out of hand, they were left alone at the corner of the bar.
“What’s wrong with letting a guy buy you a drink?” he asked, setting his hazel eyes on her again.
She mentally kicked herself in the stomach to force her attention away from his eyes and took a slow sip before looking up again. “That’s fine if the drink is wher
e the said ‘guy’ wants things to end.”
“You think I’d hold one drink over your head?”
“Maybe two or three, but I don’t intend to let the trend get started.”
He had the kind of smile that made her insides go weak. She wouldn’t have thought such a smile existed in real life. “What if I’m not that kind of guy?”
“That's exactly what you'd say if you were that kind of guy.”
The dim lighting of the bar reflected in his eyes as he leaned back and chuckled. “You’re an observant little loner.”
“Not nearly enough, sometimes. Or maybe too much.” Lena propped her arms on the bar and then leaned against them. From across the room, Jeremiah caught her eye. He nodded toward Rusty, and she shook her head. If she was going to be stuck at the bar all night, she was going to make a good time of it.
“So, you don’t like sports, and from the looks of your last drink, you’d been nursing it for a while, so you didn’t come here for the alcohol—”
“Now who’s being observant?” Lena glared at him from under her half-raised head. “My roommate said I needed to get out of the house, so he dragged me along, and I stubbornly refused to move from this spot once we got here.”
“And your roommate just left you to fend for yourself?”
“I’m doing just fine, thank you.”
“A force to be reckoned with, I see.” Rusty lifted his glass to her, the amber liquid swirling as she watched him move it to his lips and take a drink. Caught up between the push and pull of her emotions and the way her chest threatened to implode every time he smiled, Lena turned to her own glass for a distraction, running her fingers through the condensation on the side of the glass and watching the cold-water trickle down to the bar. She was out of her comfort zone and way out of her league.
A redhead with a T-shirt sporting the logo of the white-shirted team leaned against the bar next to Rusty. She tossed her curly hair over her shoulder and hollered down the bar to order a southern screw. Lena almost choked on her own saliva as every male around the bar turned to look at the already tipsy woman. Her shirt looked two sizes too small and left a two-inch gap between its cut off bottom and the top of her skin-tight jeans. While waiting for her drink, the redhead rubbed against Rusty’s arm and whispered something to him with a wink. Saliva pooled in Lena’s mouth as the tide of jealousy rose up to her chest.
Where the hell did that come from? He certainly wasn’t hers to claim after a few minutes of banter, but for once, she had to admit the twinge of hope at having a fun night. You don’t even know his real name, she repeated to herself.
Rusty looked her over; his gaze pausing too long for comfort on the low-slung neckline of her shirt, then shook his head.
“Good,” the redhead replied with a squeaky tone, then she looked around Rusty to Lena. “Are you two together?”
Lena glared back, but the girl’s gaze had already refocused on Rusty.
“We’re just having a friendly chat.” Rusty replied, more in the direction of the approaching bartender than the girl.
The bartender set down an orange drink in front of her, and she smiled briefly resuming her ogling session, and brushing the back of her hand against Rusty’s forearm. “Sports bars are known for titillating conversations.”
Lena stopped listening, wanting to curl up in a ball and hide behind her mojito glass. She propped her head on her arm while her other hand traced lines through the condensation on the bar. She risked a peek up to see Rusty smiling. It wasn’t the same smile he’d flashed so readily when he sat down. This time it was hard around the edges, strained, leaving his eyes cold and hard. He lifted his head and looked over Lena’s shoulder to the back corner of the room.
“There’s a booth open,” he said, sliding off the stool. Then he held a hand toward Lena. “Join me.”
It wasn’t a request and without thinking twice, Lena slid her hand into his warm grasp. Maybe it was just to piss off the girl who thought she could steal away any guy in the bar, but deep down, she wanted to have just as much fun as everyone else seemed to be having. Her heart rate increased until the rushing in her ears drowned out all of the chattering.
Rusty took the back bench, leaving the closest seat for Lena. As she took her seat, she couldn’t help risking a look back to the bar. The redhead narrowed her eyes, flipping her hair with one hand as she turned and approached the group on the other side of the bar.
Well, this was different.
She slid across the booth seat with her Mojito that was melting far quicker than she was drinking it.
“I’m guessing your roommate is a big guy, curly brown hair?” Rusty said, looking past Lena’s head and around the high back of the booth.
“Uh, yeah….”
Rusty raised his eyebrows, “Incoming.”
Lena looked up to see Jeremiah standing over her; his hand slid across the back of her booth.
“No,” she said before he could utter a syllable. “You’re the one who dragged me here, and now I’m enjoying the night on my terms. Go back to socializing with your sports-bar friends.” She could usually speak her mind with Jeremiah, but she wasn’t used to laying on the lecture, so her eyes refused to meet his gaze, concentrating instead a few inches lower on his mouth and chin.
He pushed his lips together, but it served him right. If he wanted her to get out of the house more, he’d have to stop being overprotective. “Fine,” he relented, “you know where to find me if you need me.”
Lena huffed a laugh as he walked away, while Rusty sat across the table staring at her with an amused expression.
“I’m not sure what to make of you, Loner.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“With that attitude, I’m surprised he got you here in the first place.”
“He doesn’t always give in so easily.”
The bartender appeared with another glass of beer for Rusty, and a water for Lena. She grimaced at it for a second, then laughed. “Thanks.”
“I thought you could use something you might actually drink. And—” he slapped Rusty on the shoulder. “I’m out so if you want more it’s on you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
For the next half hour, Lena managed to keep up with the light conversation while she sipped down her water, and Rusty fiddled with his empty beer stein. To her surprise, she even enjoyed the small talk.
Rusty glanced at his watch and frowned. “I should go. I have some things to take care of in the morning. Careful if you stay over here alone, it’s time for the wolves to come out.”
“Present company excluded?” She had to admit it was disappointing to think he was about to leave, but surely, she thought, Jeremiah would be ready to go, and she could just call it a night.
“Of course, sweetheart,” he winked as he slid out of the booth. Then, he stopped and leaned over the side of the table. “Unless you want to share a cab and really give your roommate an aneurysm.”
“What if I’m not going the same direction?” She hesitated, wondering why she was even considering the proposal.
“Well, I’m going to the inn, downtown.”
She shook her head, “Not my direction.” Even though it really was.
“Then, I’ll pay the difference,” he leaned closer and she could smell the beer on his breath mixing with a faint cologne.
“You're just betting that I'll give in and come up to your hotel room with you.”
“It's your serve, little loner, you can do as you like.” He brushed a piece of hair away from her face. “Even if I told you that I’m not betting on any more than a cab ride, I doubt you’d believe me.”
He stepped back, and she glanced around the room, Jeremiah was deep in conversation but the redheaded girl certainly hadn’t stopped watching. Rusty held out his hand, quietly waiting for her decision.
You’re twenty-three and have barely taken a risk in your entire life, either it’s stupid to start now, or insane to live under a rock for the rest
of your life. It’s just a cab ride, which means it’ll be chaperoned, in a way.
A smile crossed his lips as she placed her hand in his. She slid out of the booth, and he tucked her under his arm. As they neared the entrance, Jeremiah caught her eye. He did a double take as they walked by, then jerked, ready to chase after them. Lena raised her eyebrows and shook her head even though her mind vacillated between “this can’t be a good idea” and “it’s just a cab ride”.
Once they reached the quiet, cool air outside, the world almost seemed unreal. Her ears still buzzed from the music and the crowd now tucked away behind brick and mortar. Rusty pulled out his phone and dialed a number, while Lena’s own phone danced in her pocket.
Surprise, surprise, a message from Jeremiah. What the hell are you doing?
Relax, I’m an adult. It’s not like you never pick up girls.
You’ve been drinking.
I barely finished the equivalent of one alcoholic drink.
She decided to send one more for good measure. I’m having fun, so buzz off.
“Everything okay?” Rusty nodded to her phone.
“Yep, just Miah being his usual overprotective, big brother-ish self.”
“And you, are you having second thoughts?”
“And third, and fourth,” she mumbled as he put his arm around her shoulders again.
She closed her eyes and tried to slow her heart, fearing he could probably feel it pounding, but each deep breath brought in the cooling fall air mixed with his scent. The part of her brain that had been lecturing her all night had hushed to a whisper. Even without knowing his real name or where he came from, her body had no desire to pull away.
She needed this distraction, this delusion. It may not go beyond a cab ride—and she assured her inner cynic it wouldn’t—but tonight was going to be her night.
Rusty’s warm hands closed around her arms, pulling her against him. As she let her head loll against his shoulder, she realized that although the sidewalk was quieter than the bar, it was still alive with nightlife. Cars passing by, groups of people chatting and laughing, but as Rusty’s scent surrounded her again, and his breath tickled against the top of her head, all of the activity seemed to be on another plane.
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