Eraser Blue

by Megan Keith

  Mackenzie couldn’t help the smile that played on her lips. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  Did that really just happen? She felt his desire, he was so passionate just then, that it made her heart ache. Not half an hour ago, she was in this same position, in front of the same mirror, feeling a hell of a lot different. She was still confused but not in the same way. She was no longer hurt because he didn’t want her, she was scared of what came next.

  Looking lower in the mirror she saw a huge welt adorning her breast. A hickey? Her smile broadened. She felt like a teenager again. Sometimes it’s the simplest things that give us the greatest pleasure, Mackenzie thought, remembering Sir’s sentiments earlier in the evening. She shook her head in delight. But a hickey is what your boyfriend gives you under the bleachers at high school, not a grown man in a mansion! Especially not one as sophisticated as Sir.

  When the door re-opened a slightly flushed Mackenzie reappeared. The split in her dress went up so high that the movements of each step allowed him a perfect view of the V in her black lacy underwear. He swallowed and kicked his foot off the wall to meet her.

  “You never answered my question.”

  “What question is that?” she asked with a broad smile as he took her hand in his.

  “About staying.”

  “Oh.”

  “Stay tonight,” he insisted.

  It’s not that she was opposed to the idea of spending the night with the handsome man in front of her, not at all. She was just worried for the fallout when things would go pear-shaped, as they inevitably would.

  “You can’t leave looking like that,” he said in an attempt to convince her. He eyed her up and down and got hard again at the sight.

  “Simon took my trench coat when I arrived. I can wear that home,” she mused. Suddenly thinking it would be a better look to go home in the dark than in the daylight in a torn evening gown.

  He didn’t want to argue with her on this right now. It didn’t seem the right time. He squeezed her hand and led her toward the library.

  “At least stay for a drink?”

  “Okay.”

  Mackenzie couldn’t concede to all of his demands but she wasn’t ready to leave yet either. She took a seat on the leather sofa while Sir went to the corner of the room to pour them both drinks.

  Wow. A library in a mansion. It was everything Mackenzie dreamed – just like in the movies or the books she read. Floor to ceiling shelves made of dark wood, a sliding ladder. Leather armchairs and sofas dotted about the room. An over-sized grandiose antique desk. She was in awe.

  While he fixed the drinks, he wondered how long it would take to make her see that she belonged here with him. He’d known it from the start. But not being one for relationships he had no clue how to play it right. Maybe by morning she’ll understand. He wasn’t a patient man usually, and waiting these past few months had sometimes been excruciatingly difficult. Now that he’d had her again, he was out of patience entirely.

  He brought the drinks to Mackenzie, taking a seat beside her on the sofa.

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile when he handed her a glass. Mackenzie recognized the perfume of the amber liquid immediately. It was his drink, the one he always had at the bar. Glenfiddich. She took a tentative sip, allowing the liquid to warm her mouth deliciously before swallowing.

  “I’m glad you came tonight,” he said.

  “Me too.” He eyed her intently as she sipped on her drink. It had been playing on her mind so Mackenzie took advantage of his relaxed mood. “What happened last night, in the street outside the bar? Who was that man you fought with?”

  “Greg.” He spit it out like an expletive, he obviously held contempt for the man. “He’s someone I would rather not talk about.”

  “Why did you leave though?” Mackenzie asked. She spoke quietly and almost bashfully. It made him remember the hurt look on her face when he was getting back in the car. He gazed at her a moment and could see that same hurt lingering in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry that I left like that, Mackenzie. I’d caused enough of a scene and I didn’t want you to be exposed to any of it.”

  Mackenzie smiled at him. He was being genuine for a change, his kindness warmed her heart. He had left because he was being noble, protecting her from the commotion. She wanted to ask more, but she didn’t want to push her luck. She couldn’t help but wonder though, what was the confrontation about? Greg had said something about Sir interfering in his relationship. What did that mean? Was Greg the husband of a woman Sir had been involved with? The thought of Sir with other women did not sit well with her at all.

  “Thank you again for the flowers,” she said instead, needing a change in subject.

  “You’re welcome. Of the flowers, which were your favorites?” he asked, wanting to know for future reference. It would make things a lot easier next time.

  “I don’t know. There were so many. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” Mackenzie smiled, thinking of the florist previously known as her apartment. “You really went overboard.”

  “Me? Overboard?” he said, chuckling before taking a gulp of his drink.

  “You don’t think a dozen huge arrangements was a bit excessive?” She laughed.

  “I like most things in excess.” He smiled warmly and her heart rate kicked up a notch.

  “Yeah, well, you haven’t seen my apartment. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit in there!” She laughed again and shoved his shoulder playfully. He grabbed her hand and started playing with her fingers, smiling at her and taking another sip of his Scotch. Mackenzie did the same, eyeing him over the rim of the glass. “I like you… Sir.”

  She took another sip of her drink. She was beginning to feel rather tired and wondered what time it was. She wasn’t wearing her watch tonight.

  “I really like you too, Mackenzie. So, what do you want for breakfast?” he asked casually, leaning forward and placing his empty glass on the table. He still held her fingers lightly in his other hand. He sat back and smiled his heart-pounding smile at her.

  “Smooth,” she said, genuinely surprised at his suddenly relaxed and humorous mood.

  “I try.” He kissed her fingers. “Stay.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” he countered and it reminded Mackenzie of their conversation in the bar the week before.

  “So you can offer me pleasure like I’ve never known before?” she asked with a mischievous grin.

  “That can be arranged.” He chuckled, his head tilting backwards for a moment before he righted himself and looked at her warmly.

  Mackenzie decided she really liked the lighter side of Sir, she hoped to see it more often. Though she quite liked the overbearing Sir, too. Mackenzie laughed aloud, thinking it funny just how mercurial he was. Split personality, more like. It would be like dating two men at once. Both hot! She giggled again, feeling intoxicated. Wow, this Scotch is stronger than I remembered.

  He watched as her beautiful eyes lost focus, the drugs taking effect. She swayed in her seat a little.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Tired… drunk… maybe… I’ll stay,” she slurred.

  The last thing she remembered, before she blacked out, was Sir’s hand coming to the side of her face, catching her as she fell forward.

  Her eyes fluttered closed as he lay her head back against the side of the sofa, a small smile playing on her lips. He quickly grabbed the glass from her hand when it lost its grip.

  Mackenzie was confused when she opened her eyes. She didn’t recognize where she was at all. The room was darkened, but she could tell by the light surrounding the edges of the heavily draped window, that it was day time. How could it be day already?

  She tried to sit up but her arm was stuck. She tried moving the other and all she felt was a sharp stabbing pain to her wrist, her hand was tied. She got scared when she realized her legs were bound too. Her heart raced. Lifting her head in the darkness, she cou
ld just make out the thick rope that was tethered to her ankles and wrists. She was tied to four corners of a bed. She gasped and started to panic. Where the fuck am I?

  She tried to remember what happened. She was in a library, having a drink and then…

  “Shh.” She jolted at the voice so close to her face. Turning her head, she could make out a masculine figure hunched over her. He smelled of cigarettes and cologne, familiar. “It’s okay papillon, you’re safe. I’ve got you.” She recognized the voice of Sir, it only mildly appeased her. It took her a moment to clear the fuzziness in her head and realize what must have happened. I only had one drink…

  “You drugged me?” she screamed in disbelief, her pulse racing. “What kind of a crazy psycho are you?”

  “Now, now, Mackenzie, you trust me, remember?” A soothing hand moved across her forehead and, much to her dismay, it did ease her fear somewhat – she loved the feel of his touch – and that made her furious. “You wanted to leave me. I couldn’t allow it. You left me no choice.”

  “No choice?” She wriggled on the bed, pulling on her restraints. “Please untie me.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to wake,” he said coolly, ignoring her request. “This wouldn’t be any fun with you passed out.”

  He walked to the window. Grabbing the thick fabric he tugged it sideways. Blinding sunlight spread across the room. He pulled the other curtain wide open too, before turning back to the woman tied to his bed. He watched her blinking wildly at the brightness as he walked to her side. His eyes trailed down the length of her body. Her torn blue evening gown still in place. Her milky white skin now bathed in light. The terror in her wide jade eyes made him instantly hard. He had waited all night for the drugs he had slipped into her Scotch to wear off. He’d only dozed for an hour or two, in the chair beside the bed, before he’d heard her stirring.

  He was in full Sir mode, there was no warmth to be seen. He was still wearing his shirt and suit pants from the night before, though when she craned her neck she could see he was now barefoot. Her panic started to ease at the sight of him. His sexy body was hard to ignore. His well fitted white shirt was begging to be ripped off. His dark hair was messed, probably from sleep. She desperately wanted to run her fingers through his hair, sweep it from his eyes and hold onto it tightly as he moved inside her. Her muscles clamped and moisture pooled between her legs at the thought. Just looking at him, and his dark eyes focused on her, was making her wet with desire. I’m going crazy! He has me tied to a bed! He drugged me! And I’m getting turned on at the sight of him? No, no, no! This is wrong!

  “UNTIE ME NOW!” she screamed in a blind panic. The tears stinging her eyes as reality sunk in.

  “Untie you?” he said, stepping closer. “Now it would be remiss of me not to use this position to my full advantage first.” He lifted his finger to caress her cheek and that’s when he saw the tear slide down it. His demeanor changed instantly when he noticed she was trembling. A little fear was one thing, but she was absolutely petrified. “Oh shit! Mackenzie, no, I- please don’t-” His hand touched her cheek and she flinched. Turning her face from him, she began to sob. “Fuck! Please don’t cry, I’ll untie you.”

  Mackenzie squeezed her eyes shut tight as he started tugging on the ropes. When he was done untying her, she quickly moved to the edge, dangling her feet over the far side of the bed, away from him. She buried her head in her hands and cried some more. She was so confused.

  “I’m sorry,” he rushed out, quickly coming to her side of the bed. His eyes were wide with worry, he took a seat beside her and she flinched. “I thought that’s what you wanted,” he said quietly. His shoulder brushed hers and she shivered. “Last night when we talked about it, you seemed… shit, I fucked up… Mackenzie?”

  “What makes you think I’d want to be drugged, held hostage and raped?” she sobbed, staring back at the floor, while trying to pinch the material of her torn dress back together.

  “I wasn’t going to fucking rape you! God Mackenzie!” he said angrily before softly adding, “You liked when I tied you up at my apartment. You agreed to submit to me…”

  “That was different!” She looked at his face. He looked ashamed of his behavior. And so he should! “That was consensual! Tell me, when did I agree to this?” She nodded to the rope strewn across the floor at the end of the bed.

  He took a moment before he answered. He’d read her all wrong. He could see that now. He was fucked up. A psycho is what she’d called him. Maybe she’s right. There’s something seriously wrong with me.

  “I’ll get Simon to take you home,” he said solemnly.

  He went to stand but Mackenzie put her hand on his forearm to stop him. The sadness on his face was too much. She didn’t want Simon to take her home. What if she never saw Sir again?

  “I want you to talk to me. Explain to me what happened.”

  They sat, side by side on the edge of the bed, in silence, for what seemed like ages, before Sir next spoke.

  “There’s something about you, Mackenzie. Something I need. I crave to own you, to dominate you. I can’t explain it. Since the first time I saw you… I wanted to make you mine.”

  “You did?” she asked, not quite believing it. She was also slightly ashamed at the thrill the thought sent through her, considering what had just happened. “But I’ve seen you at the bar for months. You barely acknowledged me.”

  “I didn’t know what I was doing. I still don’t, obviously. I don’t understand these feelings. I see you and I want things I’ve never wanted before.”

  “What things? Like the BDSM stuff?”

  “Yes.” His eyes stared back at hers. There was a vulnerability he was showing that she didn’t expect. She’d only just realized her own desires for this stuff, so she could understand his confusion. “You allowed it to happen last time,” he explained.

  Mackenzie nodded. Last week she had allowed it to happen and she had enjoyed it immensely, thinking of nothing since. It was not like her to give herself completely to anyone and she wanted nothing more than to do that for him a week ago. In fact, she had allowed him that just last night in the dining room, and hallway, too.

  “I saw the lust in your eyes, last night, when I said I would keep you here,” he explained further.

  It’s true, I wanted him to. Badly. God, what is wrong with me? “But you drugged me! You can’t do that! What did you give me? What if you-”

  “I was careful Mackenzie, I researched-”

  “What did you do when I was asleep?” she asked, interrupting him, suddenly alert and worried.

  “Nothing!” He was horrified at the thought. He slid off the bed, grabbed hold of her shoulders and shook her slightly. She cringed and he hated himself right then. The look on her face tore him in two. “Nothing, Mackenzie! I promise. I would Not. Do. That! You passed out in the library and I carried you upstairs. I watched you sleep. I only touched you to tie you up. I swear, I was a perfect gentleman.”

  “A perfect gentleman? Huh!” she scoffed. The whole situation suddenly seemed absurd to her. She shook her head and a giggle escaped. “Gentleman… yeah, right!”

  Mackenzie began laughing. She became hysterical and he started to worry for her mental health, until he got a good look at her face and realized her laughter was genuine. The sparkle was back in her green eyes. The sound escaping her widely parted lips was breathtaking – the most beautiful sound in the world. What made it better was, he did that. He wasn’t entirely sure how, but he made her laugh.

  He crouched in front of her, watching her, mesmerized. Her whole face lit up and he couldn’t help but smile back. She would forgive him. He didn’t completely fuck things up after all. With relief, he sat his backside on the floor and watched her.

  When she eventually quietened, Sir was looking up from where he was seated on the carpet, he had his legs bent, his arms resting on his knees. Mackenzie looked down at him from her position on the bed. She was in awe of the crazy man in front of her. And
she was shocked at herself. He was misguided and unpredictable, but for some reason she didn’t want to leave him. He stared back at her, the smile slowly fading from his lips.

  “Mackenzie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you forgive me?”

  The remorseful look on his face broke her heart. Here he was, the strong and powerful man from the bar that she had fantasized about for months, at her feet, begging for her forgiveness. The confident ‘Sir’ was gone. She knew the decision was entirely hers, but, at the same time, she knew there wasn’t one to be made. She wanted him more than anything else in the world. She craved him. She ached to be by his side. She wanted to try new things with him - foreign, kinky things - the things he wanted. But she was a strong woman, her will was her own, and giving it to him wasn’t something that came easily.

  “Mackenzie, I won’t hurt you.”

  “Promise to never drug me again.”

  “Promise you won’t leave.” He sighed.

  “I can’t promise that,” she whispered.

  He pulled himself up from the floor. Crouching in front of her, he placed his hands on her bare knees. Her evening gown was split wide open, but he made a point of keeping his focus on her face. “I won’t drug you again. You have my word. Please forgive me.”

  She believed him. But could she forgive him?

  “Give me another chance to get this right,” he said softly. “I can’t have it end here, Mackenzie.”

  She searched his dark eyes, they were pleading with her. He’d made a mistake – it showed he was human.