The ache of dread grew, turned to ice. Lowering her gaze to whatever picture he held, she shook her head and backed away. “I don’t think I want to know,” she said shakily.
“You need to. Because it’s bad.” He looked down at the picture, then back up at her. “It’s really bad, baby. But if you’d rather not know, tell me, and I’ll take care of it, all of it.”
Staring at his face, into his blue eyes, she knew he would. Whatever hideous, awful knowledge had put that look on his face, he’d deal with it, handle it, protect her from it. She wanted so badly to let him do that. She swallowed, then whispered, “Is this something I need to know?”
“As much as I hate to say it, yeah.” He blew out a sigh and added, “It’s possible it may come back to haunt you, so…”
She closed her eyes and held out her hand.
He tucked the picture into her hand but kept his fist curled over it for a few more seconds, stroked her hand before he let go.
Tania lowered her eyes and stared at it.
It was her.
She didn’t have to look for even a second to recognize that, although it hurt her belly to look at the picture—there had never been a time when Kyle had touched her without love, but this picture…it looked obscene. She was on her knees with him behind her, sodomizing her. He was staring down, watching her. Tania had her head lifted, mouth open and parted on a gasp.
It looked like something lifted from a fucking porn movie.
“Where did this come from?” she whispered, her voice thready.
She recognized her bedroom in the background, but where had the picture come from?
She stumbled backward and looked up, staring at Drake.
He reached out and gently tugged the picture away. She watched as he tore it into shreds, letting them fall to the floor. “It was in Kent’s room, sweetheart,” he said gruffly. His shoulders rose and fell on a ragged breath. “He… Shit.”
He spun away and started to pace the kitchen, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. After about thirty seconds, he stopped and stared at her from across the room. “He had cameras, Tawny. Setup all over in your house, the feed going back to the place he stayed with his mom. And she knew about it. She…”
Now a different look came over his face, anger and discomfort and embarrassment, setting red flags of color high on his cheekbones as he stared at her.
“She’d seen video of us, baby. She watched us.”
“Watched…video…” Tania spun around, slamming her drink down. “No.” Her voice shook, wavered. Covering her face with her hands, she whispered, “No, Drake. Stop it.”
He came to stand behind her, covering her shoulders with his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“How…how long?”
He buried his face in her hair. “Kent watched you for years, it looks like. At least since Cancun.”
“Cancun? But…” She shook her head. This didn’t make sense. Turning around, she stared at him. “No. This isn’t right.”
He cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry, baby. But there are too many pictures.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “I don’t think Kyle told him, though. Kent knew because he’d been watching.”
Tania jerked, liked he’d punched her. “Watched… Oh, God.” Shoving past him, she ran for the bathroom. She barely made it before she started to puke.
He was right behind her, holding her hair, murmuring to her, whispering and stroking her back.
When the spasms past, he wiped her face with a rag, gave her a glass of water. When she started to shake, he scooped her into his arms, carried her into the living room and rocked her. “He watched us… Why…why would he do that?”
He didn’t answer and she fisted her hand in his shirt, shook him, half desperate. “Why?”
“Because he wanted something he couldn’t have,” Drake said starkly. “And finally he snapped, decided to take it.”
“Me. Not something—me.” She shook her head, resting her head on his shoulder. “Did…you said this was all at Gail’s house. Did she know?”
Drake was silent.
Lifting her head, she stared at him. And the answer was on his grim, unyielding face. “She did, didn’t she?”
“I think she did.” He stroked his hand down her back.
“And she could have said something—maybe warned me, maybe we would have known…”
That was when the tears started.
She broke his heart.
Fury and grief mingled inside him, tearing him in two.
Gripping the back of her shirt, Drake rocked her as she sobbed, pressed his lips to her brow and wished he could take this from her. But he couldn’t.
God, did I even do the right thing by telling her?
But what would he have done if he was wrong and Gail did try to go to the police? If they did think maybe they should investigate Kent’s death? He knew it wasn’t likely, but how could he let her get blindsided like that?
And damn it, she had a right to know.
There was no telling what all Kent had done with those videos he’d taken, the pictures.
But with each deep, racking sob, he made himself question, made himself wonder.
It was almost an hour before the storm started to ease. When she tipped her head back and stared at him, he brushed her hair back from her face and whispered, “Tawny, I’m so sorry. If I could have…”
She shook her head. In a hoarse voice, she said, “You couldn’t have kept this from me.” She cleared her throat and then continued. “I know Gail—I can imagine how she thinks what she has is proof that I’m nothing but a slut anyway and she’s got proof.”
Drake looked away.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yeah.”
She swallowed and nodded. “I figured as much.” She sniffled.
He snagged a tissue from the bedside table and handed it to her. She blew her nose and looked around. “How long have we been in here?”
“Nearly an hour. I thought you might cry yourself to sleep…wanted you to be comfortable.”
“You’re a sweet guy, Drake,” she whispered softly, absently stroking his tattoo. She closed her eyes. “My head hurts. My heart…everything. I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t need to do anything right now.”
“I feel like I should do something,” she muttered. There was an edge creeping into her voice, harsh and hot. Abruptly she squirmed away from him, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “What all is on the video feeds he had?”
Drake looked away. “Hell if I know. I sure as hell wasn’t going to watch. I deleted everything I could find, cleared out the recycle bin—then…ah, well, I crashed her computer. She’ll have to reformat it just to get it up and going. But the CDs and DVDs that were in there, I took them. I don’t know what’s on them, though.”
She clenched her jaw. “I want to look.”
As she stood, he shot up off the bed and blocked her. “No.”
“Why not? I think I can handle seeing myself have sex with you or my husband.” She glared at him.
He stared at her, swallowing. “No, Tawny.”
“Why the hell not? If Kent can jack off to it, I sure as hell…oh.” She went white and stumbled, falling onto the bed. She bent over, her arms wrapped around her middle. “Is…is it on there?”
He went to wrap her in his arms and she shrank away.
“Is it, damn it?”
Backing away, he nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Everything’s labeled, by month or date. There’s just one for that January—only that date.”
She lifted her hands to her head and screamed.
“That bastard,” she sobbed out. “That son of a bitch. And her…” She swore, snarling. She shook from head to toe. “Damn them,” she muttered. “Damn them to hell.”
Staring at her, Drake wondered once more if he’d done the right thing…or if he’d totally broken her.
Tania stared into the glass.
It was wh
iskey. Straight whiskey. No ice, no water, no Coke. Just whiskey.
She’d indulged in the tears, and now she was indulging in alcohol while Drake burned those damn pictures. She wasn’t quite drunk. She wished she was, but she couldn’t seem to get there. It was like the anger and misery was burning through the alcohol too fast. All she could manage was a faint buzz.
It wasn’t enough.
She wasn’t sure drunk would help all that much anyway. Drake had helped, his strength, the way he’d held her as she cried. That had helped. And knowing what he was doing now. Burning those damn pictures. Standing in the kitchen, if she turned her head just a little, she could see the flames from the fire pit in his backyard. But she didn’t want to see them burning. Not really.
She just wanted the whiskey. Lifting it, she took a sip, hissed as the warmth ran down her throat, spread through her belly.
Kent had been stalking her. Recording her. Taking photographs.
And his mother had known. She took another drink, deeper. She wasn’t over the shock, but she’d pushed it aside for now. Now it was easier to focus on the anger.
Hearing Drake’s footsteps behind her, she turned her head and watched as he slid into the room. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes grim.
“Did you burn them?” she asked.
“Yeah. Nothing but ashes left of the pictures,” he said, his voice hoarse. He glanced at her face, then away. “I’ve locked away the CDs and DVDs for now—I’ll get a safe deposit box on Monday, take care of them in case something ever happens.”
“I want to see—”
“Don’t.” Drake crossed the room to stand in front of her, cupping her face in his hands. “Damn it, this is killing you, and don’t act like it’s not. I’m sorry, baby, but I’m not going to let you see something that’s going to give you more nightmares. The other shit, if you have to see it, fine—but I’m checking it first to… Shit, I have to make sure he’s not on there. Make sure nothing was mislabeled.”
She took another drink, staring at him. Her gut clenched as she thought about even the chance of seeing that night. Maybe he was right… “Okay.”
As the whiskey hit her belly, reckless anger and something else began to whirl through her. Anger. And a need to strike out…to control something…
Drake stood there, staring at her, hands jammed in his pockets, legs spread. Black hair tumbled into his face, and his mouth, that beautiful mouth was a tight, harsh line. He was her rock—the one stable presence in her life, the one safe presence. Damn it, she needed him, in so many ways. And one way that right now was a driving, screaming demon inside her head.
Slowly, she took another drink. “What did you think when you first saw those pictures?” she asked, her voice shaking, her hand trembling.
He closed his eyes and looked away. “Shit, Tawny.”
“Tell me.”
“I’m the man who’s loved you and wanted you for years—my first reaction was to get a fucking hard-on. Then about thirty seconds later, my brain and my dick caught up with each other and I figured just how Kent must have gotten those pictures, and I felt sick.” Rage flashed on his face, in his eyes. “He had no right, taking that from you two—no right. I wanted to kill him.”
Big hands curled into fists and he snarled, “I still want to kill him, the useless, perverted fuck, but he’s already dead.”
Tania tossed the rest of the whiskey back. She’d need it, because she knew what she going to do, how she was going to deal with that driving, screaming demon, how she was going to fight the answer inside. She was taking everything back, everything Kent had stolen from her. Taking back what she needed.
“Drake…” She moved to him, reached out and laid her hands on his chest. “I think it’s time we go all out on things.” Sliding her hands lower, she curled them into the waistband of his jeans.
He caught her hands and lifted them, pressed a kiss to each of her wrists. “Tawny, you’re drunk. I just watched you toss back straight whiskey…and you’ve had a bad night. This isn’t…”
She closed her hands around his neck and tugged his mouth down to hers, kissing him rough and hard, biting his lower lip. “I’m not drunk, damn it. This is what I want, damn it,” she snarled. “What I need. I want you to chase me down, hold me down and force me.”
“No.” He caught her face in his hands, rubbed his mouth against hers, gentle and soft.
But she didn’t want gentle, didn’t want soft. She wanted, needed something she could control. Him—damn it, she could control him, and she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Knew he’d stop if he scared her. She was sick and damn tired of letting her memories and her fear dominate her and she was done.
“Damn it, you don’t need this tonight,” he said harshly.
“I get to say what I need, damn it.” She backed away from him, staring at him challengingly as she reached for the buttons on her shirt. She undid them one at a time. “And I want my damn fantasies back. I want you to bend me over, hold me down, however you want it—I don’t care, but I want my fantasies back. Make me take you. Make me beg. Give me control over my fantasies back, Drake.”
She opened her blouse and then reached for the zipper of her jeans, undoing it but not lowering them.
Drake stared at her. Reaching up, he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth and muttered, “Fuck.”
Moving up to him, she stroked him through his jeans, watching him through her lashes. “We can even pretend a little, if you want. You just took me out, I played cocktease all night…and now you want to make me pay…”
“No.” But he slid his hands down her back, then up, curving one over the back of her neck. He kissed her, but it was a gentle, soft kiss.
A make-it-all-better kiss. Damn it, that wasn’t what she needed. He couldn’t kiss this all better. She bit his tongue and when he jerked back, panting, she reached for the button of his jeans. “You want to help me. This is what I need, damn it. I need something that’s under my control.” She opened his jeans, reached inside, closed her hand around him.
He groaned and arched into her hand. As she stroked him with quick, demanding motions, she leaned in, pressed her mouth to his chest. “I need to control something…and I want it to be you. It has be you. Give me what I need, Drake.”
“Damn it, Tawny.” He closed his hand around hers, stopped her. Then he fisted his other hand in her hair, kissed her deep and hard. When he lifted his head, he demanded, “You sure? All out? Where do I stop?”
“You don’t. I want everything—no holding back, push me as hard as you can, whatever you want.”
“And what about holding you down? Restraining you?”
She blinked. Then, feigning a casualness she couldn’t quite feel, she shrugged. “Just don’t cover my mouth. Don’t do that, and I won’t care.”
He set his jaw. Closed his eyes.
“And I’m going to fight you. Hard. I’m going to fight, I’m going to run, I’m going to do my damnedest—and I don’t want you to stop,” she warned him. “I’m going to try to hurt you.”
He nodded slowly, lifting his lashes to stare at her. “Take off your shirt first. I want your bra off.”
She lifted a brow and then did it. “Why?”
“So I can see your nipples through your shirt. You want to play at being a cocktease, do it right.” He tried to smile, but it fell flat. His eyes were grim as he stripped the shirt off, then her bra.
Goose bumps broke out over her flesh as he slid her back into her shirt and buttoned the bottom few buttons, leaving the rest undone. “Bend over and suck me off,” he muttered.
She pressed her breasts against his chest, stroked his face. “I told you I was going to fight you. You sure you feel safe doing that?”
“You won’t bite me there.” He cupped her rump, squeezed. “Besides, we’re still getting into the swing of things. We’re still outside and you’re teasing me. You’re going to suck on me until I almost come, then you’ll stop.”
She shud
dered and started to go to her knees, but he stopped her. “I said bend over.”
Heat jolted through her and she backed away, awkwardly bent. He held his cock in one hand, fisted the other in her hair, holding it out of the way. “Yeah, that’s good…” He rocked, pushing his cock deeper than he normally did, harder, forcing her to take it to the back of her throat repeatedly.
She groaned, swallowed.
“Can you deep-throat me?” he growled.
Slowly, hesitantly, she took him deep, as deep as she could, and then she swallowed.
She went to pull back, but he forced her to hold it a few more seconds before he let her pull back.
“Again,” he ordered.
She gasped for air around him.
“Again.” This time, he spanked her out-thrust ass. She gasped and he took advantage of it to push deep.
She groaned and let him do it.
He rocked and thrust, alternating between deep thrusts that all but stole her breath and shallow ones, spanking her when she didn’t take him deep enough, and praising her. “Hot little bitch…that’s a good girl…”
She felt his balls drawing tight, knew he was close.
Stiffening, she pulled away.
Giving him a prissy smile, she said, “I think we should stop now.”
Drake stared at her. There was heat in his eyes, but caution. His hands caught her face, his thumb stroking over her swollen mouth. “Tawny, baby…just turn around. I’ll fuck you good and hard, and you’ll…”
“No.”
She jerked away. “I’m going inside now. You’ll just have to go home and take a cold shower.”
With her eyes, she begged him… I need this…
Drake closed his eyes, swallowed.
Then, he took a steadying breath, held it for a moment before he looked at her. “You can’t fucking tease a guy like that, baby,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Get me that hard and then stop.”
“You’ve got a hand.” She turned away and started down the hall.
“And you’ve got a hot little pussy,” he growled.
She started to run.
Bound Temptations: Stories of Temptation and Submission Page 19