The A Little Bit Trilogy Bundle: A Little Bit Submissive; A Little Bit Rough; A Little Bit Controlling - A BDSM Erotica Romance

by Bebe Wilde

  “Fuck you,” I hissed, wanting to scratch his eyes out. He was bringing this violence out in me. It was new to me and I had been unaware that it was even in me. I was slightly scared of it, too. I was shaken by his actions but I stood my ground. He wouldn’t bully me around, that much he had to know. And we were over, through, finished.

  “Whatever,” he said.

  I stared into his eyes, not believing we were there, at that low point. We had been so good together and now we were this, this rotten mess. We’d had so many dreams, so many things to do together and now we had nothing. Before I could think, I said quietly, “I can’t believe this. I wanted to have your baby.”

  “You still can,” he replied, not skipping a beat.

  I was about to burst into tears, this was too much, too real. It was awful!

  “I’ll give it to you right now,” he said and moved away, but refused to take his eyes off me. “Say the word, Teagan. Make the commitment. Do it.” He paused as if awaiting my answer, then said, “But you can’t. There might be a listing you have to go grab.”

  So that’s what this was all about, wasn’t it? Me and my career, which he saw as being in competition with our relationship. How dare he use that against me? Him of all people who lived his life in front of the cameras and in the tabloids, whose career made it so we had no choice but to share our lives with millions of people. Fine. Whatever. I said, “I want you to leave. I want a divorce.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t want a divorce,” he said. “And I am not leaving. We’re married. We got married for better or worse, you know that. You were there, too.”

  I was aghast, in shock. “Are you serious?”

  “I am,” he said and sat back down in the chair. “I am not getting a divorce.”

  I just stared at him.

  “If you try, I’ll make it hard on you. Believe me, I will.”

  “We’re stopping right here,” I said and held up my hands. It was getting to the point where I could start throwing shit.

  “Fine by me,” he said.

  “But we’re getting a divorce,” I told him.

  “I guess you’ll find out,” he said.

  “So, just let me get this straight. You want to have your cake and eat it too?”

  He turned to stare at me. “Oh. I’ll eat my cake, any day, any time.”

  If I hadn’t been so infuriated, that would have cracked me up. I refused to be amused by it, however. That’s what he did to me, though. He would do something to piss me off then he’d charm me right back and when I got comfortable, he’d do it again. I knew if I let him off this hook this time, the first chance he got he’d probably still go out and fuck the first thing that batted her eyes at him, and there were lots of those to choose from.

  “Why is this happening?” I asked, wondering that myself. Why? How did we get here? All because he fucked other women? All because of what? I shook my head and said, “How did we get here?”

  “We got here because we never acted like we were married,” he said. “We were never a couple.”

  I stared at him. “That’s absurd.”

  “Is it?” he asked. “We never spent any time together.”

  “You were always gone.”

  “You’ve got no right to talk there,” he said.

  “Please,” I hissed, shaking my head. “You can’t keep using that as an excuse.”

  “Really? Why not? I’d come home after a long day and wonder where the fuck my wife was. She certainly wasn’t at home. Just where were you, Teagan?”

  I blanched. He was calling me out, that’s what he was doing. It was going to hurt, too.

  “You know where you were, don’t you?” he asked, getting even more infuriated. “Yeah, like I said, I’d come home after being on set all day and I’d look around and wonder where my wife was.” He glared at me and mimicked my voice, “‘Oh! I got a showing! Oh! I have to meet clients for dinner! Oh! I’ve got a meeting! Oh! I’ve got a broker’s open! Oh! I got a referral!’”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I growled. “You know what? You knew what I was before we got married. You knew how focused I was on my job.”

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he said. “But would it have killed you to make a fucking pot roast once in a while?”

  I thought about that. He wanted a domesticated wife. That’s what he wanted. That wasn’t me. But he was right. Had I been around more, instead of so focused on my career, we might not be here now. Maybe I should have made a pot roast, thrown it in the oven and went on with our lives. He could have done the dishes. But then I realized he was just mind fucking me, turning this all around so he looked like the victim. Then again, he was good at that, at making others feel guilty. I squared my shoulders and said, “That gave you no right to cheat on me like you did.”

  He shrugged. “At first it was just to hurt you but after a while it just became a habit, and a way to pass the time,” he said. “I know you’ll never change and I stopped trying to get your attention a long time ago. You’re afraid of getting too close, of depending on a man, blah, blah, blah. It’s probably because your father left when you were young.”

  “Shut up,” I said, hating the way he made me sound so typical, so textbook. “You had no right to do what you did to me.”

  “I’m your husband!” he yelled, glaring at me. “You know I started screwing around on you to get our attention but you never noticed because you were oblivious!”

  “That is the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” I said. “I was here the whole time. Just because I worked late a few times to make more money so we could afford this house doesn’t mean I deserve to have that happen to me!”

  “You didn’t need the money!” he yelled. “After I started working, you could have quit! I was making millions with more to come! I paid this house off, remember? I put all that money in the bank, remember? But it wasn’t good enough for you! And you want to talk about having kids? I begged you to have a kid, to stay home with it, that I’d cut back on work, too, so we could be a family! I told you’d I’d quit and take care of it if you wanted me to! But you couldn’t do it because you were too fucking afraid of depending on a man! But fuck! I am not your father, Teagan!”

  I felt a pain shoot through my heart. He was right. It wasn’t my fault but if I’d just trusted in him, all of this could have been avoided. He was right, there was nothing left to say. I held back and kept myself walled off because he was this good looking, successful man who, on the surface, loved me. But what if someone new came into the picture he liked better? He’d be gone, that’s what. And I’d seen my mother go through that misery and I’d just been trying to avoid it. Well, that didn’t work out too well.

  “And I helped you, too,” he said. “I helped you with the house in Ojai, remember? That really put you on the uptick! And you had the cache of having a movie star husband. Because of me, everyone wanted you to be their agent! You used all of this to your advantage and don’t say you didn’t. You might have helped me in the beginning but after I made it, it was me that helped prop you up.”

  “You’re still breaking my heart, Kier,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “None of that matters now. I wanted a baby with you!”

  “We can still do that,” he said and came to stand in front of me. “Let’s do it right now. Let me impregnate you.”

  Again, if this hadn’t been so heated, I would have cracked up at him. He was like that. He always did know how to make me laugh, if only I could laugh now, which I couldn’t.

  He tried to take my hand. I wouldn’t let him. “I can’t trust you now,” I told him.

  “You can. But you won’t.” He paused to sigh loudly. “None of them meant anything to me, none of those women. Truth be told, I don’t think I meant anything to them, either. I was just a movie star they were fucking. That’s where you’re different. You mean something to me.”

  I remembered my
mother’s words about having a good looking man, about how women always throw themselves at them. It was true and it was, somehow, my problem. But why did I have to put up with it? Now after all he’d done, Kier was telling me how I was different, how I meant something to him. He was so good with that. I’d give it to him. He knew how to turn me around, upside down and make me believe nothing he’d done mattered. He was the most charming bastard on earth, it was that simple. But he’d hurt me and for that, I wanted to make him pay.

  “If I mean so much to you, how could stick your dick into all of those women?” I asked.

  “I’m a man,” he said. “It’s hard to resist. There wasn’t any emotion to it. It didn’t mean anything. Why don’t you just let that go, Teagan?”

  “Because I can’t,” I said.

  “You’re just afraid I don’t love you,” he said. “But I do. I love you. You don’t feel it now, but you will. One day, you will know the truth.”

  For some reason, his words really grated on me. How dare he say that to me right now? To put me in the position of being the party-pooper? I was the one with the problem, right? I was the one ruining everything. His words, literally, flew all over me, making me feel like some stupid woman who’d buy anything her husband told her just so he wouldn’t leave. And all he had to do to fix it was to tell her was that he loved her. That’s all. That made it all better, right? Any woman with a heart would buy into that, wouldn’t they? But I wasn’t that woman. I was stronger than that and I was harder than that. Most importantly, I was better than that.

  But I let it go and, in order to try and diffuse the situation, tried to joke, “Like I said, maybe I should start sleeping around.”

  “I’d never allow that,” he said, the tone of his voice changing. “Don’t even think about it.”

  I literally lit up at his words. I was so angry. It was okay that he did it but if I even joked about doing it, he had to tell me my place, to put me in it. How dare he? I felt the rage and violence boil up inside of me again and before I could stop myself, I slapped him and I slapped him hard. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him roughly.

  “Don’t you ever hit me again,” he growled.

  I felt scared. He was enraged. I knew I’d overstepped our boundaries, that I had done something I shouldn’t have and for that I felt bad. At the same time, something had shifted in me. I went from feeling emboldened to feeling weak and vulnerable with this strong man holding me, keeping me still, keeping me in his power.

  Looking back, I believe if he had followed through I would have stayed with him. There was something about the way he acted that brought something out in me. I felt like a woman. I knew he was a man. I hated to admit it, but it really excited me to see him like that. It was like he was suddenly the man and he was in control.

  I waited in breathless anticipation to see what he would do next. I waited because something inside of me had been triggered. Now, it would happen now. What would happen? The anticipation of those ten seconds between what he’d done and what he would do was killing me. What would he do?

  He didn’t do anything. He disappointed me. He pulled back and shook his head, giving me such a sad look my heart literally broke. It was over. He knew it. I knew it. I burst into tears. He came to me, grabbed me up in his arms and consoled me, smoothing the hair back from my face, telling me loved me, that he never loved anyone else, that he couldn’t love anyone else. He told me I was the only one who mattered to him and he’d do better if I’d just stay. This made me cry even harder, making me want a resolution to our situation even more. The two of us were never meant to be. We just weren’t.

  “I’m so sorry, Teagan,” he whispered in my ear. “I would never hurt you.”

  He would never hurt me. But what had my reaction been about? Wasn’t that what I wanted? It’s like I wanted him to take it a step further or something, to just put me in my place, to show me who the man was, to show me a different side of him. I was ashamed of myself for those feelings and I immediately shut them down. We were just too caught up in the heat of the moment. That’s all it was. It was just a moment of a very heated argument. It would not lead to some sort of wayward passion. What was I even thinking?

  I tried to get away from him, just wanting to leave and be left alone but he held me tight and kissed me. He kissed me deeply, softly. I allowed it, wanted it and gave back.

  Within seconds, we were making love. We made love to each other the way only a couple on the verge of a bad breakup could. It was hot and it was intense and it was tinged with sadness. He undressed me, bent to kiss my breasts, to kiss my face, to kiss away the tears. He laid me down on the floor and kissed me, took off my clothes, loved me, then entered me, filling me up. I grabbed onto him and kissed him as we made love, knowing that we’d never be the same after this.

  Once it was done, we fell away from each other and stared up at the ceiling, not speaking. We lay there for a while and held each other; both of us hesitant to make the next move that would indicate where our relationship would go. He wasn’t about to. He left it to me. And I made my decision; I made the best one for myself.

  I sat up and said, “You can leave now.”

  “Yeah, I will,” he replied. “I want you to know that I love you more than anything and I always will, Teagan. And I want you to know something else. I will never let you go. We may not be together but you will always stay with me. We’re soul mates, whether you would ever admit that or not. We are. We were meant to be together.”

  Wouldn’t it have been easier just to forget it? To overlook what he’d done just so he’d stay with me? I could probably forgive him, maybe I’d never forget, but I could probably forgive. Maybe. Something in me wouldn’t let me. Maybe it was my younger self knowing that men aren’t to be trusted and that they never follow through with their promises. Maybe it was just a grudge I had against men. I didn’t know. But I did know it was going to be hard to let him go.

  And then he was gone, closing the front door softly on his way out. I ran to it and pressed my face against the frame, tears of remorse, of hurt and pain sliding down my cheeks. I heard his car start, then back down the drive and out onto the street. And that was that. It really was over.

  The Flogger Incident

  True to his word, Kier did not make the divorce easy. I was the one who filed for divorce. He contested it, dragging it out forever. He wanted to stay married. But I kept at it and within a year, we were no longer Mr. and Mrs. People talked, as they always do and always would, but I ignored the stares, the whispers of “She used to be married to Kier O’Mark.” And “Why would she leave him?” It sucked and it killed me, but I had to be strong. It was over between us because I couldn’t take the cheating or the lying or the unfaithfulness. Mostly, I loved him so much I didn’t want to share him with anyone and, since he wanted to share himself, I didn’t have much say in that.

  It took a while, but I did get over him. Somewhat. Maybe I never did. But I was about over love. That was for other people, not for me. Love and I didn’t go well together. We made a bad pair.

  After our divorce, he had gone the blue-eyed blonde starlet route many times over. And me? I had stayed single. I didn’t want to date other men. I just wanted some time to myself to heal.

  But we still saw each other because there had been a real, true love there, one I think he wanted to rekindle. Well, he’d want it until something pretty caught his eye and then I wouldn’t hear from him for a few weeks, sometimes months, depending on the level of infatuation. But when the spark was gone, he’d wind up on my doorstep and we’d have a booty call and he’d be gone for a little while. Yes, I do have to admit I let him back into my pants, but never my heart.

  So, yeah, I had my reasons for not wanting to fall in love ever again. But the two of us were connected and I still loved him, even if I wouldn’t admit it to myself. I guess that’s one reason I let him come back into my life, if only to renew our sexual relationship. A girl’s got needs, too. And he was a good
lover. You could ask anyone and several of them would probably could conform via personal experience. And since I wasn’t married to him, why not? I could do worse than Kier O’Mark.

  I didn’t ever admit to myself that one reason I allowed him to fuck me was because I wanted to see if that thing would ever come out again, that fierceness in him that had, admittedly, turned me on. It never did. But then again, after our divorce, we didn’t argue that much. The irony was we probably saw each other more than we did when we were married. And we got along a lot better.

  Damn Kier anyway.

  But even so, he never became a distraction. I was done with him and, I thought, done with love. I threw myself into my job, listing and selling houses at lightning speed, maybe in an effort to get over the hurt and pain I felt on an hourly basis. That’s when Hailey, my cute, blonde assistant, came on board and together we became an unstoppable team. She became my rock, someone I went to when I was feeling low about Kier, whom she grew to despise, “Why did you put up with him?” she’d ask and shake her head. “You are so much better than that.”

  I would have to smile at her and thank her for her loyalty.

  “We’re women,” she’d say and grab my hand. “We have to stick together.”

  And so we did. She wanted to be an actress, too, and I allowed her the time she needed to audition. I introduced her to some producers I knew and she landed some small roles here and there but, like a lot of other actors in town, she was still waiting for her big break. But unlike most other actors I had known, she never tried to ingratiate herself towards Kier, whom she disliked with a vengeance. I suppose she was loyal to a fault, maybe even to her own detriment. I told her that he could help her, but she refused, telling me he was bad news and that I should stay away from him. She, too, had been cheated on, and still held grudges towards men like Kier.

  “But that’s how it works, Hailey,” I said. “Kier could really help you.”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” she said. “Are you trying to get rid of me or something?”