“Be quiet,” Parker snapped, the edge in his voice making her catch her breath. “Yes, we’ll determine — Drake and I — what we think you’ll need.”
“But—”
“He told you to be quiet, Ashley.” Drake’s hand moved to her thigh, squeezing it hard enough to make her whimper. He was even stronger than he looked, the concrete demonstration of it both scaring her a little, and making her clit throb. “And now I’m telling you. Keep it zipped until he’s done talking to you. If you can’t control yourself, you’re going to be getting a spanking from me right after Parker’s done with you. You don’t want that, believe me.”
She nodded dumbly, stunned into silence. The prospect of being disciplined by both of them … was something she didn’t think her brain could entertain. Too terrifying. Too hot. Much too close to the twisted fantasies haunting her dreams the last few months.
Parker went on. “If you agree to it, you need to know what you’re in for. It won’t just be me you’re subject to, Ashley. You’ll be just as answerable Drake as you are to me. If you think meeting my needs has been arduous, you’ll have Drake’s to meet as well. And they aren’t necessarily the same as mine.”
“What—” she gulped, trying to swallow some moisture into a suddenly dry mouth “—what do you mean?” She looked to Drake, whose eyes met hers, the darkness there unlike anything she’d seen in them before. It wasn’t a darkness of menace … entirely, anyway. More, it was one of promise, of a new journey he had in store for her, his lust and his dominance the diabolical tour guides, the taskmasters for her obedience, her surrender.
Another cheer of the crowd roared around them, but looking into his eyes, she heard it as if from a great distance. There was only them, only this, the beginning of something profound, and terrifying — and wonderful.
Parker turned her face to meet her gaze once more, his finger brushing a lash from her heated cheek. “But you need to agree to it. To all of it.”
She swallowed, dropping her eyes. “I — I don’t want to … “
“You don’t?” The concern in Parker’s voice made her want to kiss those cruel, sensual lips.
“It’s just that … I don’t want that choice. But at the same time, I need it. I have to make it.”
“So then make it.” The back of Drake’s finger traced over her throat, electricity rippling across her skin everywhere it touched. “Once you make it, we’ll take care of the rest.”
“All of the rest, Ashley.” The quirk of Parker’s lips and the flash in his eyes had a surge of moisture slickening the lips of her sex. For one second, she pictured herself climbing onto Parker’s lap, Drake’s hand wrenching her head back by her hair, exposing her throat to his lips, his tongue, the searing nip of his teeth. She’d cry out as Parker’s cock slid deep, so deep into her body, driving away all doubt, all fear, and leaving only lust, and pleasure … and love.
“We have to have your agreement, Ashley.” Drake’s grip on her thigh eased, his touch becoming gentle as that big hand inched its way up the length of her leg, tingling pleasure erupting deep within her sex. “Once you’ve agreed though, you’re in our hands. You’ll be something more than a sub, and something less.”
“What’s that?” She almost breathed the words, not daring to hope he meant what her dark, twisted heart hoped he meant.
God, is this real?
Drake’s gaze met Parker’s, Ashley holding her breath, and for a long moment it was as if everything else had led to this point, the intersection of the roads of their individual lives — an inflection point had been reached, and nothing would ever be the same. “You’d be a slave. Our slave.”
Ashley sat back against the booth, her hands going limp in theirs.
“So now you know.” Parker’s hand wrapped around the nape of her neck, a gesture so possessive it should’ve mortified her, but had rapidly become commonplace in his presence. “And you know why we have to have your agreement.”
Her head leaned to the side, and she rubbed her cheek against his forearm. “I don’t know. I’m … afraid.”
“We like you that way, Ashley,” Parker said, flashing eyes meeting hers. “And you’ll have more reasons to be afraid as we go along. But we’ll never allow you to be truly hurt. We’ll always be there to protect you.”
Her breath caught as big hands pushed her skirt up her thighs, fingers urging her legs to part further.
“Drake, they can see,” she whispered, even as Parker’s hand tightened in the roots of her hair at the back of her neck.
“It’s dark enough, Ashley, and everybody’s watching the game anyway,” Drake murmured. “Spread them more.”
His hand slapped her thigh, and she hissed both at the sting and the sound it made. To her it sounded like a pistol shot, but her rational brain told her it probably had been drowned in the general noise of the restaurant crowd.
Try as she might, she couldn’t suppress her panting breaths as Drake’s big hand closed over the heated mound of her sex. She couldn’t help but scan the crowd, terrified she’d find widened eyes and pointing fingers. But thankfully she saw nothing of the sort — in that sea of people she was theirs … but nobody seemed to notice or care.
“She’s hot as hell, Park.”
Parker’s breath blew warm against her cheek as his hand clenched tighter against her scalp. “We’re waiting for you, girl. We want your answer.”
“I can’t do this. Not now — not yet.”
Part of her wanted to scream yes, to throw herself down at their feet, and begin the journey her heart yearned for — to make herself theirs.
But her rational mind knew it couldn’t work — at least not now. How would she know she wasn’t doing this out of fear? Was she reacting to them so strongly because of her age? Late thirties and starting over again wasn’t exactly the dream situation for her, but she knew that life rarely followed those neat plans, followed the path so easily laid out before it.
Life was messy, and terrible, and random — and occasionally — beautiful.
But which of those described this situation? Were these men her saviors, or simply the next thing, the convenient port in the storm while her heart and soul picked up the pieces? Most of all she didn’t want to hurt these fascinating men with her brand of fucked-up. They deserved better, deserved a woman who could be everything they appeared to need. And though the thoughts of what might lay in store if she agreed to it made her pussy seethe, her heart hammering with a lust that flowed through her veins like fire, she knew the truth of it.
That woman wasn’t her.
“I have to go.” She grabbed Drake’s wrist, and squeezed. “I have to go, and be alone. To think.”
“What’s left to think about, girl?” She could see the dying light in Parker’s eyes, as it dawned on him, the hurt at the realization of what her words really meant. These men shouldn’t have entangled themselves with her, the sinking wreck of her life — or what remained of it. No, this was for the best, no matter how much that look in Parker’s beautiful eyes hurt her.
“Let her go, Drake.” Parker scrubbed a hand over his cheek, releasing her nape. “She’s not ready. It’s not gonna work.”
Drake delayed just that fraction of a second longer than he needed to, that touch telling her so much, showing her what she might pass up — the road she’d likely choose not to take. Then he released her, his hulking body giving her space, picking up one of the menus, as if he hadn’t just been holding her pussy in his palm like a treasured pet.
The server came back with their food, and the three of them ate in awkward silence, Ashley’s sudden sorrow keeping the noise of her surroundings at bay, as if her misery attenuated the sound, retreating within herself to survive — alone. Parker had been right. She wasn’t ready, but what was the true reason why? As she swallowed down the despair at the possibility that her emotional fragility might cause everything to fall to pieces, she wondered if she’d ever be able to move on, be able to be that person she feared
she’d forgotten how to be.
And if she ever did … would she still be a woman either man would still want?
She could feel their gazes upon her as she made her way to the door, their disappointment in her weighing heavily on her conscience. And as she made her way through the snow, to the safety of her car she wondered if she’d ever have the courage to face them again.
Chapter Nineteen
One of these days Parker knew his luck would run out.
As he jogged along the outdoor track that traversed his lot line, the frigid morning air harsh against the exposed skin of his face, he wondered how it might happen. Maybe it would be something mundane: a turned ankle and he limps his way back to the house. Or maybe it would be something bizarre — a cougar stalks and takes him down, the big cat dispatching him and hiding his body, nothing found of him other than a shoe and a bloody trail through the brush.
Drake always warned him to bring a weapon when running, knowing just how deadly a cougar could really be to a single human caught unawares. Even a human like Parker.
But Parker didn’t care.
Compared to the things he’d done, and the things still left undone, being attacked and killed by a cougar, culled from the herd with all the Darwinian ruthlessness Mother Nature often favored, seemed rather quaint, almost romantic.
He slipped on a frozen puddle, the chains on his shoes digging into the ice, sparing him from a tumble in the dirty white snow.
The breath blew from his lungs like a bellows, the cold biting, his eyes watering as he darted through the trees. He’d run, no matter what, regardless of the pain. He’d always been running, and nothing short of death — and perhaps not even that — would stop him.
Coming up over a rise, through the branches he got a glimpse of the guest house, several hundred yards away. Was she there? When he and Drake got home last night, he’d looked to see if her car was parked at the guest house. It wasn’t.
He hadn’t seen her car all day, and even though every hour she was away amplified his worry for her, he knew he had to give her space. Give her the chance to decide for herself what the next part of her journey would be. As much as he wanted to make all those decisions for her, the fact was that the first one — the most important one — had to be hers.
He wanted to see her again, just talk to her, hear that voice, that sweet voice that made him want to gather that soft body in his arms and never let her go. If he had his way, he never would let her go — chains, tight rope, strict rules, and the unbreakable bonds of submission would see to that — but after that night at The Black Rock, he’d seen just how tenuous the chances of that working out now appeared. Just when it seemed all was within his grasp, it looked to be a mirage, just a cruel dream. Perhaps that was his lot after all? His penance for the things he’d done.
For Jorge.
A branch whipped across the freezing flesh of his cheek, the pain bright, like a blowtorch on his sensitized skin. With a curse, he brought his hand up to his face, expecting to see blood on his palm. Luckily, there was none, but he decided it probably was time go back along the path with Drake and trim the fucking brush back — again.
The trail snaked through a close stand of lodgepole pine, the trees providing enough shelter that the mist still hung about at ground level despite the icy breeze blowing in from the east. He negotiated the course with a precision borne of long practice. Running. Fleeing. From what? To where?
The answer was plain to see, but he didn’t know how to get from here to there, to go back to that place of fear, of regret … and of naked, murderous rage.
For her, you will. You must.
Another assignment loomed, and though he always tried not to think of it until he had to, it intruded upon his thoughts more and more. Because now things were different. Now he had something to come back to. Now, even if he died, his last thoughts would be of the one he wanted to come back to. It had been too long since he’d had a reason to return, a purpose for anything other than the mission, a role to play other than that of the instrument of justice, of retribution, and most of all, of death.
You have to tell her, eventually. You’re looking for a solution that doesn’t exist. She has to know.
But did she truly? Who was she to him, really? If he divorced his lust, his fondness for the bewitching woman from his thoughts, was she anything more than a (very pleasant) diversion? Was the emotional detachment reasonable — or was it merely a rationalization, a defense mechanism? Was she ready to learn how broken he really was? Was he ready for what her reaction was likely to be at that realization? That her man, the calm, cool Parker was actually a complete fucking mess?
As he made the final turn through the open field behind the house, the pale yellow stalks of tall grass peeking up from the flat expanse of pure white, he knew it was all bullshit. What was the point in lying to himself? Of course she was more. She was more than he’d ever expected, and that fact had crept up on him, by inches. As slow yet inexorable as a glacier, she’d found her way into his heart. That black, hardened organ that he sometimes doubted existed, had been opened by her purity of spirit, the enticing prospect of taking care of her, of protecting her, and perhaps if he was lucky, claiming her for his own.
But you can’t, Park. Don’t make her pay. You’ve failed before, and no matter what you try to do, you’ll fail again.
He sprinted the last two hundred feet, the wind whipping at his face, grunting through clenched teeth, his feet clomping through the packed snow. Walking slowly around to the front of the house, breath rasping, throat raw, he thought of what Ashley might be doing, what she was thinking — and if he’d fucked everything up by moving too fast.
The sweat was already ice cold against his skin, the t-shirt threatening to freeze against his body, but the core of him felt numb, immune to the chill, inured to anything, really. That numbness was precisely the problem: it made his job easier, but it left him with nothing once the job was done. Just more numbness, emptiness.
Tilting his head back, he stared up at the opaque gray blanket of the overcast winter sky. It was all so simple up there, no complications, no regrets … just drifting.
Jesus Christ, what’s gotten into you? Wake the fuck up. You better get your shit wired tight, Parker.
“You’re gonna f-freeze to death in that t-shirt.”
His head snapped up so fast, his world spun for a moment. Ashley sat huddled on the front steps of the porch, her gray parka wrapped around her tucked knees, the hood covering that beautiful sable hair. Her eyes didn’t meet his, instead staring at her booted feet, the snow caked to the black soles.
Parker sat down next to her, his arms draped over his knees, hands hanging limp. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”
“I’m not sure I have — yet.” The wisp of her breath drifted out from under her hood.
“Then why are you here?”
“I needed … I needed to see you. Missed you.”
Missed you. Oh, my Ashley …
He stared off over the dazzling expanse of the snow-covered countryside, the crystal-clear waters of Lake Chelan far below the bluff. The tips of his fingers were beginning to tingle in the brutal cold, the crisp air almost metallic against the back of his tongue. The quiet was the best thing about a good snowfall, the whole world hushed, the troubles of life not so pressing after all, under that comforting blanket of white.
It didn’t matter that he wanted to pull her close, push back that hood and press kisses to her chilled skin, to her eyes, hold her after close. No, it didn’t matter. She had to know how things would go, that there were consequences for her actions. Even if those consequences weren’t fair — even if they hurt him more than her.
“Say something, Parker.”
“No ‘Sir’ anymore?” He winced at the bite of his words, but let them hang there anyway.
“Sir,” she murmured, almost to herself, as if trying the word on for size again, learning the shapes her lips formed to say it.
/> “Why did you come back, Ashley?” Part of him actually feared the answer, as alien as that particular emotion was to him.
She blew out a breath, and hugged her arms around herself. “I’m afraid.”
Parker’s spine stiffened, fists clenching. “Him, right? Even if Terry could find you, I’d—”
“No. Not him. I’m afraid … of you.”
He turned his head toward her, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
Ashley’s hazel eyes raised, and the pain he saw in them made his heart ache, even as his cock stiffened to iron hard erection. “I’m afraid of what you’ll do if I agree to this,” she whispered, looking away, her gaze moving over the snowy field sloping toward the road. “But what I’m really afraid of is what I’d let you do. What I’d want you to do.”
Heart thudding in his chest, though not from the running, Parker touched her chin, making her meet his gaze. “And what would that be, Ashley?”
“Can we go inside, Sir?”
With a slight squeeze to her chin, he frowned. “Why did you leave?You knew we’d worry about you, didn’t you?”
Afraid it would lead to this, she nodded. “I had to think. I’m lost, Parker, but I think I’ve found a road back. I just don’t know if I’m brave enough to follow it.”
“Where did you go?”
“I got in the car and drove. Didn’t even know where. Ended up in East Wenatchee, before I turned off.” She shivered, looking at him from under the hood of her parka. “Every mile I drove, the more I knew it wasn’t where I needed to be. It was the wrong road. So, I found a hotel room in Wenatchee and crashed.”
She wanted to tell him how cold and lonely that hotel bed had been, how long she’d laid awake wishing he were by her side, his body wrapped around her, protecting her, the weight of her breast jealously held in the firm clutch of his hand.
“You’re lucky we didn’t have to come ID your body on the highway, driving with those fucking bald tires of yours.”
“Not sure it would matter.” She shrugged. “Wouldn’t be any great loss to the world.”
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