Wrapped Around Your Finger

by Fallon Blake

  “No. It wasn’t like that. Well, it was like that, but she was insistent that we stay casual. She had this wall built around her and I needed to breach it.”

  “Breach it? I’m pretty sure you knocked that fucker down. Knowing you, it was on purpose, you sly bastard. You knew she’d run. If this backfires on you, it would serve you right.”

  Banner threw Jared a cold glare.

  “She’s it for you, isn’t she?” Surprise wasn’t something Banner often heard in Jared’s voice, but there it was.

  “I don’t know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “But I want the chance to find out.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “She needs a little time to digest everything that’s happened and then I think she’ll come around.”

  “And what if she doesn’t?”

  “Then I’ll just have to go get her and spank her ass until we come to an understanding.”

  * * * * *

  “What is that god-awful racket?” Aimee came shuffling into the kitchen. Her short blonde hair stuck out in random places all over her head. It looked as if she’d cut it with hedge trimmers.

  Indie turned her mixer off and swiped a taste of the cake batter with her finger. “Needs more cardamom. Morning, Aims. Coffee?” She reached for the French press and poured Aimee a cup. Indie really wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart with her roommate, but there was no way Aimee would let her off the hook, not after she’d just been busted making cupcakes. Cupcakes were standard breakup fare in their house.

  Aimee grabbed the mug from her and added sugar and milk. “You’re home early and you’re baking. Sweetie, what happened?” she asked as she sat down at the scuffed and stained laminate kitchen table.

  “Nothing happened. It’s just over that’s all. You look tired. Late night?” Indie put another dash of cardamom into the mixer bowl then flipped the switch.

  “I had an appointment that ran late. Guy decided he wanted to sit for more than just the outline. Don’t try to change the subject either, Indigo Hartley. I may be a zombie in the a.m. but I’m a fuckin’ smart one. Those are chai spice cupcakes, aren’t they?” Aimee narrowed her eyes and waved her spoon at Indie. “You only make those when it’s serious.”

  Yeah, Indie wouldn’t get out of this kitchen without spilling her guts. It seemed as if she were doing that an awful lot these days.

  “Was he a dick? Did he hurt you? I’ll fuckin’ put my foot in his ass if he did,” Aimee muttered before she took a sip of her coffee.

  Indie didn’t want to face the feelings that would come with telling Aimee. It was much easier to stuff it all down if she didn’t talk about it. She sighed with all the weariness she felt as she shut off the mixer and leaned against the counter.

  “Hon, come sit down and talk to me. You know you’ll feel better after you get it out. The cupcakes can wait.”

  Indie grabbed the French press and her coffee mug then sat down across from Aimee. “He asked me to stay.” She paused and added a teaspoon of sugar to her coffee.

  “He did?” Aimee asked, her eyes soft and dreamy.

  “Yes, and to tell you the truth, Banner is nothing like I thought he’d be. He’s this gentle dominating force. I know it sounds weird, but I don’t know how else to put it. He’s not arrogant or egocentric. He’s actually very thoughtful and intelligent. The dominance and submission stuff was…so much more than I thought it would be. It was the craziest, scariest, sexiest, most amazing couple of days I’ve ever had.” She took a sip of her coffee to shut herself up.

  Aimee leaned forward. “Oh I’m gonna need juicy details.”

  Indie smirked. “You would say that.”

  “Hey, let a girl live vicariously. I can imagine he’s a Brandy instead of a Banner.”

  “You have serious issues, you know that?”

  Aimee rolled her eyes. “Pot, kettle? Get on with it already.”

  “Well, last night he took me to a play party, strapped me down to an exam table and gave me more orgasms than I could count. Multiples, Aimee. It was the most mind-blowing sexual experience of my life.” And Indie’s clit throbbed to life at the memory.

  “You fucking slut! Multiples? In public?”

  “Can you believe it?”

  Aimee scrunched up her face. “Let me see if I get this. He’s kind, thoughtful, good looking, makes a shitload of money in a field you both love, and the kinky bastard can make you come six ways to Sunday? I’m not seein’ a problem here, sweetie.”

  “The problem is…he scares the ever-loving shit out of me and I’m mad at him. I broke down and cried like a baby after the scene at the party. I couldn’t really tell you why. It just came flooding out. I never cry. Never. He just…held me. Who does that? Oh, and you know what else? He made me take off my blue dress and wash the makeup off my face in the first fifteen minutes I was there! He thinks I hide behind my modeling persona.”

  “Well don’t you?”

  “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

  “Honey, I am on your side. But be honest with yourself. You love the makeup, the clothes, the rockabilly style, because generally no one looks beyond that. No one sees the country girl from Jacksonville who used to take care of her family when her mom took a mental vacation.”

  With a hard glare, Indie got up and went back to making cupcakes. What the hell did Aimee know anyway? She snatched the bowl from the mixer and slammed it down next to the pan she’d already greased and floured.

  “Go ahead and be pissed. But this is me talking here, your best friend, roomie for the last five years. You know, miserable breakup cupcake eating champion?”

  Indie snorted. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” She turned back to Aimee.

  “That this guy has you wrapped around his little finger because he can give you screaming orgasms and he sees you for who you really are?”

  Indie huffed. “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Like I always say, life is too short for regrets. If you have the chance to be happy, then why are you here making cupcakes?”

  “I don’t know.” But she did know. She was afraid. She was afraid that this could be what she’d always wanted. What she’d fantasized about having. But she’d have to leave her safe little life behind to have it.

  “Complete bullshit, Indie. You’ve taken big risks before and they paid off. You broke away from your family to come down here, go to school and live your own life. So live it. If you don’t give this a chance you’ll always wonder. And besides, you can’t stay here with me and bake all the damn time. I’ll get fat and who’s gonna want a fat gay tattoo artist?”

  “With that hair? I have no idea.”

  “Whatever, heifer, but seriously, you should call him or something.”

  “I can’t. I’m still pissed at him.” He’d had no right to make her care about him when they’d only had a three-day agreement.

  “If you say so. I’m gonna go shower. I have an early sitting today,” Aimee said as she got up from the table. “Save me some of those cupcakes.”

  Chapter Nine

  Indie pulled the last pan from the oven when she heard the doorbell. “One sec,” she yelled.

  Who in the hell was at her door at eight thirty in the morning on a Monday? She threw the deadbolt and opened the door. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of Banner Faust on her front porch. They stood there for a few moments and just stared at one another. The intensity in his turbulent blue eyes forced her to look down at her feet.

  “Invite me in, Indie,” he said in that low, rough voice she’d come to love so much.

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Are we going to play this game?”

  Indie raised her gaze to his and challenged him with a glare. Yeah, it was a little petty, but she was mad at him right now. Anger was easier than fear. It certainly felt better and so what if she wanted to hide behind it?

  Banner gave her a wolfish grin. “If you weren’t planning to invite me in,
you’d have already slammed the door in my face.”

  Damn, he had a point. Indie gritted her teeth and held the door open. “How did you know where I lived anyway?”

  “Let’s just say that I got a phone call from a concerned friend.”

  Indie sucked a sharp breath through her teeth. Aimee, that meddling… “The kitchen is through there. Please make yourself at home. I’ll be back in just a sec.”

  She left Banner standing there and stormed into Aimee’s bedroom. “You want to explain yourself?” she asked her friend, trying to keep her voice from rising to a shriek.

  “Well you did tell me that if I was worried about you I should call that number.” Aimee showed her the index card Banner had given to Indie. “I was worried.”

  “I am so going to pay you back for this,” Indie hissed as she shut Aimee’s door.

  “You’ll thank me later!” Aimee yelled.

  Sure she would, right after she put Nair in Aimee’s shampoo.

  Right now she needed to pull her shit together. Indie straightened her apron and smoothed out her hair before she went to find Banner. When she entered the kitchen, she stopped short. He stood, leaning against the sink, one of her wooden spoons was in his hand and he had a wicked gleam in his eyes. Now all she could think about was what it would feel like to be spanked with it. She swallowed hard.

  “I think we should talk,” he said as he tapped the spoon against his leg.

  How the hell was she supposed to concentrate on anything he said? Anger! Yes, she was supposed to be angry with him. And she was, just maybe not as much as she had been a few minutes ago.

  “You know, I still have the full day according to our agreement. You left early. Do you want to tell me why?” he asked in that quiet, stern way that made her shiver.

  She bit into her bottom lip, trying to figure out what to say. Did he really want to know? A better question—did really she have the guts to tell him?

  “Indie, talk to me.”

  “I’m mad at you. There I said it.” She paced in the small space the kitchen offered, her bare feet slapping on the old linoleum. Her honesty would have to come by way of anger, but damn it, she’d tell him. “You had no right to go digging around in my head the way you did. We had a three-day arrangement. Three days. It was supposed to be fun and casual. You weren’t supposed to look deeper. Or make me look deeper for that matter.” Her voice grew louder with each sentence.

  “Indie—”

  “No, you wanted me to talk so I’m going to talk. You were right when you said that I hide. Do you want to know why? Because I don’t want anyone seeing the person I used to be. When I said my mom had a hard time when my dad was on the road, it was a big fucking understatement. She was depressed; so depressed she couldn’t drag her ass out of bed to care for five kids. I did it. I made sure we all got to school, everyone was fed and the house was livable. Me, Indigo Jane Hartley. But you know what was almost as bad as my mom’s depression? The way people would talk—that poor Hartley girl. It’s a shame she’ll probably end up just like her momma—married young with a passel of kids and never moving more than a few blocks from where she was born.” She took a shaky breath and wiped her face with the back of her hand. It came away wet. When had she started crying? Great, Banner would think she was a complete basket case after this. She’d told him this much, she might as well tell him all of it.

  “When Daddy retired, I got out as fast as I could. I moved down here, where nobody knew me and I could be whoever I wanted to be. Getting into modeling just made it easier for me to leave my old life behind. I wasn’t that poor girl from the sticks anymore whose momma was a little loose in the head. I was Indigo Hartley, fetish model and aspiring chef. After a few tattoos and blue hair, no one really looked beyond that. Well, it used to be purple, that’s beside the point. I’m babbling again aren’t I?”

  Banner grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him. She settled into his arms and wrapped herself around him. This was where she belonged. There was no other way to explain why he felt so safe. He felt like home. With a deep sigh she sniffed back the last of her tears.

  “Thank you,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head.

  She pulled back from him so she could look into his eyes. “For what? Blubbering all over you for the second time in less than twenty-four hours?”

  “No, for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

  “Well just don’t go feeling sorry for me. I couldn’t take that.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m amazed by you.” He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “You’re a strong, capable woman who decided you wanted more than what life handed you and worked to make it happen. As my mother used to say, it takes grit. Now if I could just get you to let go of this delusion that I told you our time together would be casual and fun. I don’t recall ever saying those words to you.”

  “I don’t understand, Banner. Then why three days? What was that all about?”

  “It was about a start.”

  “A start?” Then it hit her like a good, stinging slap on the ass. “You planned this out from the beginning, didn’t you? You just sold me a three-day package because that’s all you’d thought I’d buy,” she said in disbelief.

  “That’s a bit blunt, but essentially yes.” He nodded as if luring her in and seducing her was perfectly okay.

  “I can’t believe you! You took away my clothes, strapped me down, gave me the best sex I’ve ever had, made me cry, made me care about you!” She slapped him on the arm. “For what?”

  “Because I want to keep you.”

  He what? “You what?”

  “Indie, I’ve looked a very long time to find someone like you. Three days is not enough. I need more…a lot more.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you and me not just playing at Dominant and submissive,” he said softly as he ran a hand through her hair.

  “You’re serious aren’t you?” she asked, hoping yet afraid that he’d say yes.

  “Very.”

  “I can’t be like those subs that Jared trains.”

  “Nor would I want you to be. I don’t want or have use for a slave. I can’t lie and say I won’t push you, because I will. I can’t say it will always be about what you want, because it won’t. What I can say is, I care about you and I can give you what you need.”

  “You really care about me?” She almost couldn’t believe he’d said it. She needed to hear him say it again.

  “Do you think I would be here if I didn’t?”

  “I don’t know, I mean what do you want with someone like me? I’m a pain in the ass. I’m not trained. I say fuck a lot. I’ll never be a size two and I have a horrible addiction to cupcakes. Do you really want all that?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I think you’re perfect, just the way you are? I think I’ll add a few more swats to your punishment for making me repeat myself. Again.”

  Her breath caught. “What?”

  “Mmm, you didn’t really think that I would let a thing like you leaving before our time was up go unpunished did you?” There was that wolfish grin again.

  Uh-oh.

  “And you slapped me. I think we can add a few for that as well,” he continued as he rubbed the wooden spoon he still held along the outside of her arm.

  “So, um, how many am I up to now?”

  “Oh I think at least twenty.”

  Indie felt her eyes widen and her clit pulse.

  “Clothes off. On second thought, put the apron back on after you’re naked. It’s kind of sexy.”

  “What about Aimee, Sir?” It was funny how easily that word just slipped out.

  “You should have thought about that before you decided to cheat me out of my last day with my submissive.”

  “What? I didn’t cheat—”

  “Shh. Am I going to have to put vocal restrictions in place?”

  She shook her he
ad a little too vigorously. He would and she knew it. She’d rather not earn a spanking every time something flew out of her mouth. Slowly she undressed until she stood before him completely nude, then retied her apron around her waist.

  “Bend over the kitchen table.”

  Oh shit. This was going to hurt.

  The End

  About the Author

  Fallon Blake loves to spin stories that explore the romance of dominance and submission or venture into the realms of the paranormal. When she’d not glued to her netbook writing away, you can usually find her in the kitchen whipping up something vegetarian. She loves horror movies, has a soft spot for zombies and cupcakes, and reads everything she can get her grubby hands on.

  Fallon resides in Florida with her family and loves to hear from her fans.

  Fallon welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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