She nodded, kicking off her own shoes. “I hope those drinks involve alcohol.”
He snorted. “Maybe later, you need to rehydrate. Fresh juice would be best. Bathroom’s through the kitchen if you need it.”
“Thanks, Mom,” she smiled, but it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. He couldn’t blame her though; he was so exhausted, he wasn’t sure he could smile convincingly if he had to.
He took his bag upstairs and placed it in a chest at the foot of the bed where he kept his larger equipment. It had the ability to lock, but he hadn’t bothered with it up to this point. Charlie stayed out of his bedroom anyway. Then, he pulled a clean blanket from the closet; it was an old soft fleece blanket. The house wasn’t cold, but Lena might appreciate being able to curl up in it.
Eric laid the blanket on the kitchen table and pulled some fruits and berries out of the fridge. Soft footsteps behind him indicated that Lena had settled in the living room. “You’re supposed to be getting comfortable,” he teased, glancing over his shoulder.
Lena tilted her head to one side but didn’t move from the doorway. She stood with one foot half-covering the toes of her other foot, and her arms wrapped around her stomach.
“Come on,” he said, stretching out his arm. She took her time, plodding across the kitchen floor until he could tuck her under his arm and against his chest. With his free hand, he began loading the berries into the blender. Then, he picked up a single blackberry and lifted Lena’s chin with his pinky, and she took the berry from his fingers. Her tongue flicked out to lick her lips, and as it disappeared, Eric stole a quick kiss for himself, tasting the sweet berry on her breath.
“I’m sorry for being mopey and—”
“Don’t, Lena. You’re emotional, and there’s a reason. Don’t ever apologize for how you feel.” He dumped some strawberries onto the cutting board and picked one up by the stem, bringing it to Lena’s mouth. “I said I’d take care of you tonight, and if that involves standing in the kitchen and holding you, that’s what I’ll do.”
“And feeding me berries. I won’t argue with that.”
Once Eric had finish blending the fruits and berries, he poured them each a glass and handed one to Lena.
“I still think you should add some rum.” She peeked up at him as she took a sip of the thick red liquid.
“The last thing you need is alcohol.” He nudged her toward the living room and threw the blanket over his shoulder. Dropping the blanket in the center of the couch, he put his drink on the side table and took the end seat. He put one leg along the back of the couch and patted the seat in front of him, picking up the blanket to drape it over Lena as she sat against him. “Anything you’d like to watch?”
“Not really.” She settled back, drawing both of her knees up in front of her. “So, is this it? No more talking?”
“We can talk all you want, Beautiful. But I’m not pushing anymore tonight.” He turned on the television and scanned through the channels, barely registering what was on each channel before flipping to the next.
Lena took a long drink of juice, then reached over to put it on the coffee table and sat back, leaning against his chest and pulling the blanket up to her neck. Under the blanket, she wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers rubbing up and down over her left shoulder where the majority of her scars were.
Eric slipped his hand under the blanket and laced his fingers through hers. She squeezed them for a second then relaxed. “Earlier, when I ground the gears in the car—the noise and that itchy-twitchy feeling. That’s what I feel like inside right now.”
“I’m sorry,” Eric whispered.
“I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault I’m prone to falling to pieces.” She turned a bit, so that she could see him without wrenching her neck. “I don’t like letting people in to see all of my scars, and,” she swallowed, “I’m—what if I tell you everything and—” Her voice tightened and instead of finishing she buried her face against his chest.
“Shh,” he said, smoothing her hair and holding her tightly. “I like the girl I’ve been getting to know these last couple weeks. Your scars may have shaped who you are, but how you got them isn’t going to change how I see you. But it might make it a little easier for me to help you work past it.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be with someone you don’t have to fix?”
Eric shook his head. “I don’t know anyone who wasn’t broken at some point.”
Lena inhaled and closed her eyes. “What was it like the first time you went to the club?”
“A shock,” he said, rubbing her back absentmindedly. “Cade didn’t really warn me, he just said we were going to a club. We got there late, so a few people were already deep in scenes, and I felt like my gut hit the floor when we walked in. I wanted to take Cade outside and punch him in the face, but I couldn’t manage to move from where I stood. I imagine I looked like a creeper, standing there with my eyes bugged out and my mouth hanging open, but Cade had his laugh and introduced me to some of the other regulars. Cade had been there for about a year, but a couple of more experienced Doms taught us the ropes and kept an eye on us.”
“I imagine tonight wasn’t the first time you two have teamed up on someone.”
Eric chuckled lightly. “No. It’s not our regular thing, but it does make for an interesting night once in a while. Tonight, I wanted to make sure that you were safe—I haven’t done a scene like that in a long time, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”
“So, you’re not perfect at everything, huh?”
“Far from it, Sweetie.” Eric twisted to retrieve his glass, taking a few drinks as he thought over his first few attempts in the club—the time he’d had a rowdy sub practically top him, when he had no idea what he was doing, and the many lectures he got on communication. “I’ve had my fair share of awkward situations arising from ignorance and obstinance. It wasn’t always so easy for me to talk about things or admit that I needed help—all of that took time. Sometimes I forget I need to give you time.”
“Time doesn’t fix everything. Hell, I’m not sure it fixes anything. It just makes us older and creates distance between events.” Lena’s jittering leg shook the couch as she took the last few drinks of juice. “Some memories are too stubborn to fade over time—what are we supposed to do with those?”
“Talk about them.”
“Seems counterintuitive. I want to forget, not talk. And I don’t—” She closed her eyes and sat quietly for a few moments.
Eric waited for her to calm, and took the empty glass she’d been clutching, setting both glasses aside. “Talking gives you control. It’s your memory, Lena, and it scares you, but it’s just a memory. You can talk your way through it, but it’s not real anymore—you’re safe.”
“I don’t want you to know.”
“What do you think is going to happen if you tell me?” When she didn’t answer, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible. “Come on—give me your worst case scenario.”
“You’ll never want to see me again.” She stared off as she spoke.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she stiffened, and started to pull away, but Eric didn’t let go—instead he shifted them both so that she sat on his lap. She squirmed again but couldn’t get free. “Eric, stop.”
“You’re pulling away because you don’t want me to push you away?”
She stilled but didn’t relax. Eric rubbed her hands, which she clutched into tiny fists in her lap. He felt like he was trying to balance on a piece of thread that had been stretched out between two cliffs, and even if he managed not to fall one way or the other, the thread was about to snap. Even though she’d opened the door to the conversation, she had already locked up, and the only way to get her to move was to push—which is exactly what he’d said he wouldn’t do.
“Look at me, Lena.”
She snuffled and slowly brought her gaze to his face. Pain festered behind her tired eyes, but the only wa
y he knew to help could very easily make it worse.
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.” Her voice barely made a sound, but her breathing remained steady.
Eric kissed her cheek before moving on to the next question. “Where did it happen?”
“Home.” She began picking at her nails and twisting her fingers together. “It was a foster home. I shared a bedroom with another girl in the house, Leslie, but she was a year older, so she moved out when I was seventeen. I thought it was cool to have a room to myself.”
Eric tried to pace his questions, hoping he wouldn’t accidentally hit something to set her off too early. “How long were you there?”
“I moved in when I was eleven.” She took a deep breath, and her muscles slackened a bit. “The family wasn’t that bad actually. I’d spent the year before bouncing around. Jeremiah was there, too. Leslie came later, after another girl left.”
“Well, that explains the big brother comments.”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “He had to leave when I was fifteen. He’d already graduated, so the day after he turned eighteen, he was out on his own. Luckily, he’d been working for a couple of years and had already lined up an apartment with another friend. After Leslie graduated, she moved in with her boyfriend.”
Lena’s nails clicked together again, but she continued unprompted. “I started working so I’d be able to take care of myself. A long day at school, followed by a long night at work, and then homework. Most nights I passed out, hardly talking to anyone in the house.
“A new boy moved in, he was a little older than me. Only thing he ever talked about was finally being old enough to get out of the system in a few months.”
“Lena,” he coaxed as she began to shake. “Look at me, Sweetie.”
She obeyed, but her eyes remained glassy and distant.
“You’re safe, Lena. Stay with me.”
She nodded, but her muscles strained with the effort.
“What color are my eyes?”
“Hazel.” Her lip curled up, and she sighed, relaxing enough that he could open her hand and press his palm to hers.
“It’s a memory, you’re still here with me, in my home, and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
“One night, after I had passed out from working all day… I woke up with him on top of me. He had my mouth covered, and my nose pinched shut so I couldn’t breathe, let alone yell. He put a knife to my throat, and said if I made a sound, he’d slice me open. He made me… god, I thought I’d gag or suffocate….”
“It’s okay,” Eric held her closer, trying not to clench his hands into fists at the thought of finding this bastard. For her, you will stay calm.
“I was too afraid to tell anyone what happened, so the next night I just tried to barricade my door so he couldn’t get in, but somehow he did.” She swallowed. “When I woke up…I thought he was going to kill me. He pushed me face down on the bed, kept his hand wrapped around my throat. I freaked when I couldn’t breathe, and someone heard. Somehow in the process, I’d also knocked his knife away. Our foster dad came in and pulled him off me. I had a cut on my arm, and they took me to the hospital. So, I had to spend the night answering all the stupid questions of doctors, nurses, and cops.
“Miah, stayed with me and took me home the next day. Told me to pack my bags, and I went to stay with him. I was only sixteen. No one ever really said anything to me about it, but they didn’t make me go back either.”
She was staring off to the center of the room by the time she’d finished. Eric pulled her hand up and kissed her knuckles, and she finally broke from the trance, laying her head on his shoulder. “I had four facts left, how many does that count as?”
Eric stroked her cheek and neck before claiming her mouth in a kiss. “As many as you want.”
She curled her fingers around his hand, pulling it into her lap and toying with his fingers as she considered. “Three.”
He chuckled. “Brave, little Loner.”
She bit her lip, then tucked herself into his lap. Folding in on herself, as if it’d make it all hurt less, and he did all he could to wrap his arms around her little body, hoping that it could in some way ease her troubles.
“All I want,” the tears began to fall again, and she tried to wipe them away before he could see.
He mentally cursed, if this was going to be worse than her last story, he wasn’t sure he’d keep the lid on his temper long enough for her to get it all out. “I just want to feel safe.”
“You are, Sweetie.” He felt like something in his chest snapped, showering his gut in flaming debris. “I’ll do anything I can to make you believe it.”
She sank into his chest, shaking with a fresh round of tears and sobs. “Just keep doing this.”
Eric held her tight until the tears had passed, and her body went limp in his arms. “Thank you, Lena,” he whispered, watching her eyes slowly close. “I know it took a lot to tell me all of that.”
Lena
Lena roused as Eric sat her on the edge of a bed. Her eyes still felt puffy from crying, mouth dry, and body heavy as she tried not to fall over while Eric pulled off her clothes, starting with her shirt, then bra. She laid back as he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs, finally pulling them free from her feet, along with her socks. Then, he helped her under the covers and tucked her in, before stripping off his own clothes and sliding into bed beside her.
His hard chest didn’t make for the most comfortable pillow in the world, but right now, it was the only thing she wanted. His skin against hers, reassuring her that she was okay, still in one piece even though the memories threatened to rip her sanity to shreds.
“When I was a teenager,” she mumbled, only half-conscious of the words, “I had thought about this… being tied up. After all of that happened, I thought it was because of my fantasies. Like some kind of karmic ‘you get what you asked for’.”
“You know that what we do is completely different, right?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t then.”
Eric laced his arms around her. She heard him speak, but his words weren’t fast enough to beat her exhaustion.
Lena stirred and glanced at the clock, it was almost four in the morning, which meant she’d only had a few hours of sleep, but with Eric’s heated body next to her, her own was yearning for more attention. She rolled over, watching his face as he slept and hoping that enough exhaustion remained to pull her back into oblivion before she ended up staring at his sleeping form all night.
He opened an eye, and rolled over trapping her with one arm. “What’s wrong, Sweetie?”
“I….” Her body burned with too many emotions to be fully sure of what she wanted to say. “Nothing. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You’ve been twitchy for at least the last ten minutes.” He nudged her temple with the tip of his nose. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong. I just can’t sleep.”
His face hardened. “Why?”
“I just feel restless, okay?” Lies, lies, her brain screamed. Why was it always trying to get her in trouble lately? Dumping her, face first, into the very emotions and memories she wasn’t ready for.
Making a sound in his throat, Eric pulled back.
Lena’s heart pounded, helpless in her chest. Her body ached for him, hurt with the moment of rejection that she’d caused by holding back again. Every time she tried to hide her emotions, it only made things harder. You’ve told him your darkest secret. He couldn’t fix the scars, make them prettier, or take away their origins. But he could kiss them. They were parts of her story, etched permanently on her skin and in her mind—but, to him they weren’t imperfections or ugly blights, they were his keys to understanding her. He took each piece, dusting it off and fitting it with the others, like an archaeologist who had spent his entire life piecing together broken and seemingly unrelated fragments.
“I want you,” she whispered. Looking away, unable to face him as he
r face blazed red.
He moved forward, crouching over her until his breath hit her ear. “In what way?”
She sucked in air, but her chest hitched. He was going to make her spell it out, but logically, that couldn’t be too hard.
I want to have sex. Even as she thought the words, her body fought them back, refusing to say them. If only she could get all of her emotions¸ thoughts, and actions on the same track. “Please…”
“That’s a good start.” Millimeter by millimeter his body pressed toward hers. Then he rose, on hands and knees barely touching her.
He may as well have thrown a weight on her chest. Her hand twitched to reach for him, but she drew her fingers into a fist.
“Much as I wish I could sometimes,” he said, “I can’t read your mind. Sometimes you need to be a little more obvious.”
Tonight? Tonight he wanted to make things into a lesson?
She huffed, looked him straight in the eye. “I’m horny.”
“Well, that’s crude,” he said balancing himself to run one hand down her sternum. “Not sure I should reward that kind of talk.”
Lena bit her cheek, giving him a fiery glare, but he sat back on his haunches and crossed his arms over his already obvious erection. How could anyone look like that and not get what he wanted?
Her anger melted. If he could use his Dominant, manly, wiles, she could use her own. She tried to keep the smirk from reaching her face as she remembered the word Cade had used earlier when passing her back to Eric after their session. Master.
“Please,” she whispered, arching her back a little. “Will you have sex with me, Master?”
He lowered his head, his chest rumbled when he exhaled, and Lena’s body reacted by shooting a current of desire that left her skin tingling. His mouth came down on her nipple, the licks and sucking quickly escalating to a furious level.
Mouth wide open, she cried out. She froze the instant he pulled away, but he turned his onslaught to her other breast until her chest jutted upward, and her head dug back into the pillow.
Bound and Unbroken Page 16