Bound by the Past

by Mari Carr

  “What?”

  “I forgot. I’m on a diet.”

  “Carly,” he said in a tone he hoped would warn her he didn’t want to go down this road again. Why she thought she needed to lose weight was beyond him. Mercifully, she wasn’t pencil-thin. Give him a girl with curves any day—and she had her curves in all the right places. Although she complained endlessly about what she referred to as her “bubble butt”, Jon simply didn’t see it. She was the perfect hourglass, and he’d pointed out to her on more than one occasion that most women would kill for her Marilyn Monroe figure.

  Unfortunately, his compliments were continually rebuffed. He tried not to be annoyed that the woman simply could not accept any favorable comments about herself. If there was one thing about her that drove him crazy, it was her low self-esteem.

  “Of course, I’ve been on a diet for ten years, so I don’t see what difference a lousy burger is going to make. My metabolism seems to have died a painful death years ago and there’s simply no reviving it. It’s hell getting old.”

  “You aren’t old.” His voice sounded gruff, but he was tired of hearing her put herself down. “And you aren’t fat. You’re just right.”

  At her eye-rolling dismissal of his words, Jon felt his anger building.

  “I’m a practical girl with eyes and mirrors, Jon, and besides, I figure I have something much better than good looks.”

  “What’s that?” He tried to calm the fury Reilly had set loose inside him.

  “Common sense. That’s much better than brilliance or beauty.”

  “Well,” he answered, “it seems to me, you have all three.”

  “You’re such a sweet friend.” She turned as if to leave. That was the other thing that drove him crazy. Whenever faced with a compliment, she became embarrassed and left the room.

  Unwilling to allow her to depart this time, he grabbed her arm before she’d taken two steps. “You are beautiful.” He forced her to look him in the eye with a firm finger under her chin.

  “Jon—”

  “Say it,” he demanded harshly.

  “Say what?” She was clearly shocked by his domineering manner. He’d only ever treated her with kid gloves, but Reilly’s visit upset him more than he cared to admit. He felt shades of his former personality breaking through the cool exterior he’d worked hard to construct. Listening to his gorgeous friend’s ridiculous self-recriminations drove him over the edge.

  “I’m beautiful,” he repeated, refusing to back down.

  “You’re beautiful.” She gave him an impish smile—however, her joke was wasted on him. He could feel himself slipping into the old Jon.

  “I’ve got all night.” His grip on her arm tightened. “Are you going to say it or not?”

  “I don’t understand…”

  He watched the smallest glimmer of fear creep into her confused eyes but he refused to give her an inch.

  “I mean it, Carly. I’ve had it with your comments. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and if you try to tell me one more time that you’re not, I’ll lose it.”

  Carly smiled at his words. He watched as the fear and confusion were replaced by what appeared to be amazement. “That is absolutely, positively the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “And that’s the problem, but that doesn’t stop it from being the truth. Now, are you going to say it or am I going to take you over my knee?”

  He watched her cheeks flush at his comment. It appeared she was struggling to take a deep breath and the pupils in her lovely blue eyes dilated.

  Could it be she wouldn’t mind such an occurrence?

  He felt a serious stirring in his pants that would cause her to blush even more if she spotted it. Usually he was able to keep his one-eyed friend under control around her, careful not to frighten her with his interest.

  As he watched her stammering, Jon wondered why he’d started this conversation. What the hell was he thinking? It was that damn Reilly. He’d left him in a state of turmoil, opening a Pandora’s box. The old, dangerous Jon was beginning to reemerge from the wreckage of his earlier life. He felt the new calm, cool and collected Jon quickly losing the ground he’d gained in the last few years.

  “I—I’m b-beautiful.” The sincerity of her words was questionable enough, but she sealed her fate when she rolled her eyes and giggled with exasperation at the end of her statement.

  “That’s it.” He dragged her toward the chair behind his desk.

  “Jon.” She began to struggle.

  “Don’t fight me.” He pulled harder as she dug her heels in. “I gave you a chance.”

  “Fine. Have it your way. I’m beautiful. I’m the most gorgeous woman on Earth. I should be a supermodel or a movie star, I’m so fucking hot. Happy?”

  He turned to face her and felt his anger melt away at the humor written on her lovely face. He’d behaved like a brute but rather than run away in fear, she continued to tease him.

  Grimacing at his foul behavior, he barked out a brief “sorry” before turning to load his briefcase. He needed to put some distance between them before he did something they’d both regret.

  “Wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?” she asked after a few moments of uneasy silence.

  He shook his head.

  “Jon.” She paused, waiting until he looked at her before finishing her comment. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Still want that burger?”

  “Heck yeah. I’m beautiful and hungry.”

  Grabbing his briefcase and leather jacket in one hand, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder in a friendly gesture. “You’re beautiful and crazy.”

  They’d nearly reached the classroom door when she pulled away. “You wouldn’t really have…” She gestured back to the desk chair. “You know.”

  “Spanked you?” He grinned with the lightheartedness she seemed to bring out in him.

  She blushed and nodded.

  “Oh yeah—and I would have loved every minute of it.” He watched her cheeks grow even redder. “Don’t worry, Blue Eyes, knowing you and that mouth of yours, I have no doubt I’ll get to carry through on the threat eventually. And trust me, you’ll love every minute of it too.”

  Ignoring her speechlessness, he winked and continued to guide her out into the hallway before turning off the lights and locking the door.

  Chapter Two

  Jon was starving by the time they finally made it to the burger joint. They’d separated at the front door of the school with his promise to swing by her place an hour later to pick her up. They’d both needed time to change into more comfortable clothes and Jon had needed time to regroup, regain control of emotions.

  Tonight’s football game promised to be an exciting one, with Lowell taking on a crosstown rival. The stands would be packed. He looked forward to being forced into cramped conditions with Carly, soaking up the scent of strawberries left in her hair from the shampoo she used. God, he loved the way she smelled.

  He wasn’t sure exactly when his attitude toward her had changed, but lately he wanted Carly James with a need so powerful it frightened him. There were two big things holding him back from changing their status quo. First of all, if the truth about his past ever came out, she would never forgive him.

  Secondly, normal girls like Carly would never understand the needs that lived inside him—and the fact that Night was back in town only exacerbated the problem. Every time he imagined kissing Carly, Night’s face flashed through his mind as well. It was enough to drive him crazy. And the knowledge that those desires hadn’t faded with time stopped him dead in his tracks every time his self-control wavered. She deserved much better than him, and he knew it. Night’s return—in light of his growing feelings for Carly—was going to test him.

  He felt certain he’d fail.

  Night would take one look at her and want her every bit as much as Jon did, and he could never hope to explain—even to himself—why he was overwhelmed by the longing to
share her with his best friend.

  His upbringing had definitely shaped and fueled that need. He’d been introduced to the Commitment Church the year he’d turned eleven. His father had died unexpectedly of a heart attack and his mother, Cassandra, had discovered Reverend Rex Thomas’ cult. Actually, Rex discovered Cassandra. As was his practice, he’d preyed on young widows and divorcees. However, instead of finding a distraught woman in desperate need of rescuing, Rex had found a kindred spirit in Cassandra. Renouncing his harem, he proclaimed her his high priestess within months of their arrival at the compound. As Cassandra ascended the ranks of the cult, Jon followed. Rex took him under his wing, and Jon—enthralled by no longer being forced to go to school—embraced cult life.

  At fourteen, Jon and Night, Rex’s son by one of his numerous wives, were initiated into the world of sex. Most women in the cult were trained and cultivated to serve the male members’ every sexual fantasy. BDSM was widely practiced, and by sixteen, Jon and Night were accomplished masters. They’d always shared the women and for several years after the cult fell, Jon had found it impossible to enjoy sex without the presence of his friend. One night—after too much whiskey—he’d discovered Night experienced the same feeling of loss. After that, they’d begun to seek out women willing to take on both of them in bed.

  Rubbing his weary eyes, he thrust the unhappy memories from his mind. The Commitment Church was something he purposely hadn’t thought of in fifteen years, despite the fact he still suffered nightmares about his time there.

  Sitting at the table with Carly, he again considered Reilly’s suspicions. Cassandra wasn’t a fool. There was no way she would resurrect the Commitment Church. If she was on the mountain, she had a different plan this time. And there was no force in nature that would compel him to go up to that compound again. The normal life he’d craved since leaving the cult and the CAA was within his grasp.

  Glancing next to him, he watched Carly dig into her French fries with vigor.

  Normal.

  He was going to be normal, and if anyone could show him the way, it was the lively sprite before him.

  “You’re awfully quiet tonight,” she said.

  As their friendship grew, Jon had become concerned, worried about the day she would ask him questions about himself and his past that he couldn’t answer. She’d never met Night, as he’d been out of the country the last eighteen months.

  “Earth to Jon.” She waved her hands in front of his face. “Anybody home?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Could have fooled me. You’ve been zoning out since you picked me up. Do you feel all right?”

  “I feel fine.”

  “If you’re too tired, we don’t have to go to the football game. I know it’s been a long week. I’m sure someone snuck at least three Tuesdays in there.”

  He laughed. “I’m not too tired. Besides, there’s no way I could miss this game and show my face in school on Monday. I have three starters on the team in my third period and they’d be pissed off if I missed it.”

  “The kids love you. No one can teach the struggling students like you can.”

  “Careful there, Blue Eyes. Unlike you, I have no problem accepting a compliment and yours is feeding my already overweening sense of self.”

  “Ha ha. I don’t have problems with compliments. Just ones that aren’t necessarily true.” At her words, his eyes narrowed and she quickly raised her hands in surrender. “Oh no. We are not going there again.”

  “Didn’t your ex-husband ever tell you how pretty you are?” He felt a bit curious about her unsuccessful marriage. It was the one subject about which she didn’t speak often.

  “We didn’t have that kind of marriage.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Adam and I were—actually, are—better friends than lovers. Our relationship was never based on passion, just companionship.”

  “Excuse me for saying so, but that doesn’t sound like much of a marriage.”

  “You’re right. Our marriage was probably a mistake from the beginning, but the fact is we were really great friends. I suppose in a lot of ways it was easier to just hang in there. I mean, we got along fine. Why mess with something that wasn’t terrible? We rarely fought and we had a good time together, even if we weren’t ripping each other’s clothes off every night.”

  “So what happened?”

  “He met someone whose clothes he wanted to rip off.”

  “Ah.” He was unsure how to respond to her carefree response.

  “Shelby is Adam’s soul mate. She completes him in a way I never could. She’s wonderful for him. Truth is, as much as I know I should be devastated, I’m not. Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m several eggs short of a dozen.”

  “Sorry, but that’s not what I’m thinking.”

  “You aren’t?” Her face showed her disbelief at his statement.

  “Nope.”

  “Then what were are you thinking?”

  “That you are too good to be true.” Before he could think about his actions, he reached for her.

  And then he kissed her.

  Night watched Jon lean forward to kiss the gorgeous brunette. Making a quick adjustment to his pants, he imagined what it would be like to put his mouth on those oh-so-kissable lips as well.

  He hadn’t seen his best friend in well over a year, since before Jon had started his new life as an English teacher. Night knew it was foolish to be nervous about seeing Jon again, yet for some reason he couldn’t shake the feeling.

  Things had changed between them in the last few years. A wall had been erected and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how or why. Jon was struggling to overcome and forget the past. Night could respect that even if he couldn’t quite understand. For him, the past would never go away as long as Cassandra Walker was a free woman.

  Now—for the first time in nearly a decade and a half—he saw his chance for retribution.

  Night ran a hand through his dirty hair, shaking loose clumps of soil and dried leaves. Damn Reilly wanted him up on that godforsaken mountain twenty-four-seven. After days without a shower, hot food or a decent night’s sleep, he’d had enough. On top of his discomfort, he was tired of wondering how Jon would respond to the fact that Mommie Dearest was back in town.

  He’d just been pulling into the parking lot of Jon’s townhouse complex when he saw his friend pulling out. Jon hadn’t seen him and, as Night didn’t have a key, he’d decided to follow. He’d been surprised to see his friend pull up in front of a small house on the edge of town and pick up the pretty little brunette. Grinning at the prospect of having a bit of fun at Jon’s expense, he’d followed the couple to this restaurant.

  He could just imagine the look on the woman’s face if he walked up to Jon and hugged him. He looked like a homeless person and his smell was potent. However, he could see from here that something was bothering his friend, and he wasn’t sure this was the right time to approach him.

  So instead he’d simply sat in his truck and watched Jon and his date throughout most of their meal. He knew his friend better than anyone on earth. He could only assume Reilly had finally made contact, and Jon hadn’t taken the news of Cassandra’s reappearance well.

  As he watched, Jon ended the kiss with a smile and his date blushed.

  “Christ.” The entire thing reminded him of an episode of The Andy Griffith Show, it was so innocent and sweet. Nausea swam through him. So it looked like his best friend had finally gotten his heart’s desire. He’d achieved what they’d both assumed was impossible—a normal life.

  The couple rose to leave the restaurant. Night bent down in the front seat of his truck while Jon opened the passenger door for his date, then circled the car and climbed in. As he watched them drive away, Night decided tonight wasn’t a good time for a reunion. He groaned at the prospect of another night spent sleeping on the cold, hard ground, then started his
truck and headed back toward the mountain.

  Chapter Three

  Carly was quiet as he drove her home from the football game. In fact, she’d been rather subdued ever since his impetuous kiss in the restaurant. He’d wanted to talk to her about it, but at the football game she had carved them out a place in the midst of the faculty section. Surrounded by colleagues didn’t allow much opportunity for intimate conversation. Unfortunately, the long game—Lowell won in overtime—gave him too much time to worry about her response. He’d sensed she was confused, and he didn’t blame her. In the course of a few hours, he’d told her she was beautiful, threatened to spank her and kissed her in public.

  She lived close to the school and they were pulling up in front of her house before he’d had a chance to speak a word to her.

  “Carly.” He turned toward her as she reached for the door handle of the car.

  “Jon, you don’t have to say anything. It was just a little kiss. Don’t worry about it.”

  “‘Worry about it’?”

  “Yeah. I mean, you’ve been so sweet to me today, but you really didn’t have to kiss me just to make me feel better about myself.”

  “What?” He was perplexed by her comments.

  “I know I’m not exactly what you would call the most self-confident woman in the world, but I meant what I said about Adam. I’m not hurt by his decision, so you don’t have to worry that I’m in denial or pining away or lonely or anything.”

  She thought the kiss was simply to cheer her up? A pity kiss?

  She was still talking so he forced himself to tune back in to her rambling conversation. “…suppose I’m just not the type of woman to evoke that kind of passion in a man.”

  “What?”

  “I’m the girl next door, not the fantasy. Plus I’m a tomboy—always have been. Guys see me as a friend, not a conquest, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I mean, I think fellas are cool to hang out with. Much better than women, who only ever want to shop and talk on the phone.”