Wicked Steps

by CORY CYR

  I tossed and turned as my legs tangled in the sheets. Even in the darkness, his face haunted my thoughts. I was scared of my own feelings. My worst fear was I had allowed Hartman to dominate me in the bedroom and I would always expect it from men. Was the attraction I had to Kieran because of his oppressive nature? Would the feelings I had inside, gnawing at me, finally diminish when we had sex, or would all those emotions escalate past the point of my ability to control them?

  I could just leave. Turn tail and run. Leave this life and the gallery behind. Because was everything I planned to do worth my sanity? Coco had been right about this not ending well.

  I thought I was already well acquainted with guilt and shame. I was a survivor. I had endured the last five years with Hartman. That alone should have made me battle ready for his son. But during that time, I built a wall around me. I only persevered because I let myself become immune to what he was doing. I locked away my emotions so they could stay dormant.

  Then he showed up. The moment I saw Kieran, I let down my guard. Only for a few moments, but it had been long enough for him to unleash his carnal intentions and make me desire again. And because life is never fair and I was still paying penitence, that one single pleasurable moment given to me by a man that turned out to be my stepson became another cruel joke wielded by Hartman and fate.

  Twenty-Three

  Ellery

  I took the weekend off from work and decided to go home. Coco still wasn’t convinced I should go through with my plan. But nothing was going to change my mind. To calm her fears, I told her to text me throughout the next two days. When I got to the house, I sat in the driveway for twenty minutes. Would he be home? Would he be alone? Would that woman be here?

  I grabbed my overnight bag and walked to the door. It opened as I set down my things to find my keys.

  “So you’re back?”

  He was wearing nothing but sweatpants, his chiseled chest bare but for nipple piercings and splatters of multicolored paint. Even with both arms exquisitely inked, what captivated my attention were the multi-toned shades of acrylic speckled on every ripped part of his body, down past his abdomen. My gaze lingered as it moved downward to a few droplets that had trickled past his belly button. His hair was uncombed and appeared unwashed; he looked like he hadn’t slept either. He actually reeked. His current scent was a combination of days of sweat, paint, and musk.

  Maybe this was his method. I was witnessing Wicked’s process. How he created his art. I would love to see what he was working on. But as with most artistic people, I had read he was very secretive and never revealed his work until completion. Knowing our history, I doubted very much he would make an exception in my case.

  “Well, I still live here, right, or has that changed in the past few days?” I squeezed past him with my bag in tow. My body stirred as it became flush with his lower half. I swallowed a silent sigh.

  “For now, but once we conclude our business, I guess we can negotiate real estate if you want. But as I recall, you only asked for the gallery.”

  I couldn’t gauge him right now. There was something off. Well, truthfully, there was quite a bit off about him since the first time we met. But this was different.

  “I see you’ve been painting?” I asked, moving toward the stairs.

  He arched a brow as he crossed his arms, tapping a paintbrush on his toned, tattooed bicep. “What gave it away? The fact I’m covered in paint or the brush in my hand?”

  Yes, still an arrogant asshole.

  I tossed him a look over my shoulder. “As great as you are, Wicked,” I remarked as I pretended to sniff the air, “maybe you should try showering.”

  He quipped after me. “Oh, does my manly aroma offend your delicate senses?”

  I stopped at the top of the stairs before my door. “The way you stink currently would offend the walking dead.”

  I heard him chuckle as I shut the door. We’ll just see who’s laughing tonight, prick. You think you’re the only wicked one?

  I kept forgetting how immature he was. He might have fucked many, but he hadn’t had enough experience to realize the inner mechanics of real women, the ones when pushed past their breaking point, could actually be more volatile than males. I had built up years of animosity toward Hartman, and since he felt I should atone for his father’s sins, turnabout was fair play. Only now, this man-child had racked up his own list of infractions. This had nothing to do with what had happened between Hartman and me. This was retaliation for drugging me, having me pierced by God knows who, watching me with another woman, and just being an all-around douche.

  I took a long bath, then rifled through my purse, pulling out a vial. I uncapped it and sniffed—odorless as promised. I’d gotten it from a friend of Cliff’s, Bo’s partner. He made me swear I would never tell anyone, including his better half. We spoke briefly after he removed my body jewelry. Once he heard a downgraded version of the story, he opted to help me.

  The drug would only put Kieran out for two hours, and if he’d eaten a large meal, I had less time. Two hours would be plenty of time for Cliff to show up and aid me. I needed him to help me move dead weight and bring props. I liked him. He was sweet and funny and had seen my vagina, so I trusted him. We sanctioned our secret with a pinky swear. Yeah, he was my type of man.

  After I threw on a wrap dress, I went into the kitchen to make dinner. The house was silent except for an occasional sound coming from Kieran’s room. He met me in the kitchen a while later, freshly showered and wearing loose pajama pants and a T-shirt.

  “I see you took my advice. I’m sure bathing made you feel better.” I asked as I dipped my head into the large freezer.

  “I figured my date might appreciate something better than oil-based paint substituting as aftershave,” he replied, leaning against the island.

  “You’re going out? Okay, well, if that’s the case, I’ll just order Chinese. I was going to make us some dinner because I hate cooking for one.” I tried not to look disappointed. But crap, if he left, my plan would be ruined. Shit. Shit. I had no back-up strategy.

  Our stares held as he studied me. “You can cook?”

  I rolled my eyes with false innocence. “Yes, and I bake, too. Don’t act so surprised. I am a woman of many talents.”

  “Oh, of that I have no doubt. I just didn’t consider domestic goddess as one of them.” He hit me with a slanted smile dripping with sexual innuendo. “If you’re going to cook, maybe I’ll forgo my date. I’d love to see what you have to offer.”

  I grabbed some sirloin out of the freezer, then walked to the pantry. I put everything out on the counter and began preparing beef stroganoff. “Do you plan to watch me step by step? Afraid I might poison you?” I snorted as I began boiling water.

  “The thought had occurred to me,” he said cautiously. “You never said if you liked my selection of jewelry.”

  I dumped the egg noodles into the water, then glowered at him coolly. “The ring was lovely. Your choice of location, not so much.” I moved over to the island where he was standing and produced a huge knife out of a drawer. “Dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes.”

  For a moment, I saw a flash of panic as I began slicing the meat. I swear his hands folded in front of his cock as if he were worried. I snickered softly as he walked away. I had too much use for that particular member to “Bobbitt” it. But I’d have to admit it motivated me to continue my plot, knowing he feared me just a little bit.

  “Hey, can you go down to the cellar and grab us a bottle of wine?” I yelled after him. I saw his hand wave in acknowledgement as I heard him unlock the cellar door.

  The wine would be perfect for my plan. I doubted he would suspect I would use the same method he had. Right now, I was relieved, because even though he appeared to show some slight reservation, it wasn’t enough to worry him, so his guard seemed down.

  He came back with a bottle of 2008 merlot. I nodded in agreement as he handed me the bottle. I uncorked it and left it i
n the kitchen as I walked into the dining room.

  Forty minutes later, I called him back and motioned him to sit at the head of the table. I placed the silverware and napkins out for both of us. I strolled back into the kitchen and filled two plates with stroganoff, garnishing it with parsley, then served him first.

  Hunger must have blinded his suspicions, because he took a bite right away. “Jesus, this is really good,” he announced as he took another forkful.

  “Don’t act so amazed. I told you I had culinary skills. Your opinion of me must be extremely low if you thought I’d lie about something as trivial as cooking.” I placed a basket of warm rolls in front of him. “I’ll get the wine,” I said quietly, my voice filled with unease as I headed back into the kitchen.

  I quickly poured two glasses. My hands began to shake as I pulled the vial out of my pocket. I emptied the sleeping drug into his glass. I took a big whiff. I smelled nothing but the rich aroma of merlot. I stirred it with a spoon and made sure everything dissolved. I placed both glasses with the bottle on a serving tray and took a deep breath as I reentered the dining room. The last thing he needed to notice was my nervousness. I put his wine down, then took mine and sat in front of my plate.

  “So tell me about you and my father. You can leave out all the salacious details. I’d hate to ruin my appetite while eating this fabulous meal,” he said, barely looking up from his plate.

  I took a sip of my wine first, which encouraged him to do the same. I wondered how fast this shit worked and if he’d fall face first into the stroganoff. I stifled a laugh because that would make great YouTube video. “I can’t imagine I could tell you anything you don’t already know. Besides, I don’t enjoy rehashing my past. I wish I could forget it, but here you are stirring the pot and wanting me to share every snippet. You already know what kind of a man he was. Let’s just say he didn’t mellow with age, and I went into the marriage with good intentions because I wasn’t informed. As much as I loathe you, I wish I had known about you sooner because you could have warned me.”

  “Nice speech. I think we both know it was a little more than good intentions that enticed you to marry the old man,” he spit out, his tone rippled with accusation.

  I took another sip of wine. The last thing I wanted was for either of us to get agitated. I could hold my tongue, because later, I would have plenty to say. But I couldn’t have him get angry enough to leave. He’d already finished half his glass, and as much as I wanted equal payback, I needed to make sure he was safe. If he suddenly got pissed off and left the property, he could black out anywhere.

  Yes, I was furious with him for what he’d done. I didn’t want to kill him, I wanted him in the same state I had been. Defiled and humiliated. I knew most of his actions were misguided. I, however, had thought out my plan carefully. Kieran had this coming, and no matter what happened, he had only himself to blame.

  I watched him closely as his hand began to falter while he took another bite of food. He stopped and put the fork down and grabbed a napkin.

  “Christ, it’s hot in here. Don’t you think it’s hot? It feels like a fucking steam bath,” he mumbled as his words began to slur. He paused and looked at me, taking another sip of wine. I could see sweat begin to bead on his forehead. “Fuck, I’m hot,” he cackled as he proceeded to pull off his shirt.

  My fork pinged against my plate as I dropped it. I almost choked as his chest came into view. His nipple rings had been replaced by vertical bars. I watched with intense interest as his fingertips began to toy with one. He laughed in amusement. The drug had definitely hit his system. But he hadn’t passed out yet, and his actions were more of someone inebriated.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, pretending concern.

  “Nope, it’s too fuckin’ hot in here.” He leaned over his plate as he took the final swallow of wine. “I may have to take off my pants, but I’m willing to wager you’ll enjoy it because I forgot underwear,” he garbled.

  Panic rushed through me as I watched his eyes roll back and then flash with sudden awareness. His lips twisted angrily as he tried to push himself away from the table. He attempted to speak, but the drug had taken full effect. His body went limp as it slumped to one side. Only the armrest kept him from falling to the floor.

  I rushed to him and felt for a pulse. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized he was only asleep. For a moment, I feared I had killed him.

  Trepidation permeated every part of my body because he had known. His expression of shock had screamed one thing: betrayal. He had to have known I’d retaliate. Did he honestly think I was a woman that would let everything he’d done slide? Maybe I really had caught him off guard. He’d pegged me for some money-hungry whore from the start, one who had no backbone. A woman who would just stand by and allow him to abuse me as his father had.

  I had paid enough. I was finished repenting for my sins. Now it was time he became remorseful for his. I wasn’t about to let Hartman’s son do the same thing. It didn’t matter that Kieran had somehow managed to insinuate himself into my life. I was finally free and wanted to put those years behind me. I had my own agenda: the gallery and possibly finding a tiny slice of happiness for myself. I deserved it. I earned it. Then he showed up and sabotaged everything.

  Now it was my turn to take back my self-esteem. I had known pain and very little pleasure. But the one thing I’d never held in my grasp was domination. It was time for Queen Ellery’s reign to begin.

  Twenty-Four

  Kieran

  Handcuffs. Really? I jangled them as my eyes tried to focus. I was in my room, dressed in pants only, my mouth tasted like ass, and I had a headache from hell. I shook the cuffs again.

  What the hell is this? As much as I love bondage games, normally I’m not the one trussed up.

  I managed to turn my head slightly so I could see the clock. It was nine. I’d lost over two hours. The last thing I remembered…

  That fucking bitch. Her plan had better be to keep me bound permanently, because when I get free, her life is over. No one did this to me. Ellery must have gone insane thinking she could get away with this.

  I twisted and turned trying to release myself. I was so stupid. The wench made me dinner with wine. I’d kick my own ass if I could reach it. I’d even chosen the vintage. The one she used to drug me. I loved kinky, but only if I held the reins. She had gotten the upper hand. I gathered she was pissed.

  Let’s see. I drugged her, had her explore her feminine side, then made her watch as another woman sucked me off. All of these could be the reason, but clearly, I might have overstepped my bounds by piercing her. I should have known she would never be that forgiving.

  The entire dinner had been a ploy to get even. What did she plan to do, keep me restrained all weekend? Eventually, I would have to pee. My cock got started to get stiff thinking about her holding it. Come on. I shook my head furiously, attempting to convince my dick to calm the fuck down.

  The door creaked open as my wicked stepmother strolled in. She had a glass of water in tow. I could see a grin plastered across her face. Bitch.

  “I thought you might be thirsty. I know from recent experience that alcohol and drugs combined tend to dehydrate you. So how are you feeling?”

  The woman was actually smirking. She found this amusing. Unfortunately, the glass of water looked too good to pass up. I licked my dry lips as she tipped the glass toward my mouth. I gulped down several sips, stopping occasionally to sigh because it tasted so good.

  “I suppose I should have asked you before I drank from that glass. Anything in there I should know about?”

  She took the glass away and set it on the nightstand. “No, just purified water from the faucet. You do drink American, don’t you? I suppose I could run out and get some Evian.”

  Her fingertips delicately tapped the shackles. Then she stroked a soft line down my face, sweeping her index finger over my lips. That simple touch made my dick hard again. Fucking brainless appendage. This wasn’t suppose
d to stimulate me, but infuriate me. I couldn’t even hide my apparent swelling flesh. I squirmed as I attempted to cross my legs.

  She was enjoying this, and she was aroused. I might be able to work with this. I could see her pupils dilate as her breathing became shallow. This scenario was causing a reaction in both of us. She flushed as her hand brushed against my pulsing erection. I sucked in a breath as she increased pressure on my cock.

  “If what you want is my cock, I’ll gladly oblige, but I need my hands,” I croaked out. My erratic breathing had made my voice raspy.

  “Is that what I want, Kieran? Do I want to take your cock in my mouth and suck you to orgasm? Or maybe I’ll leave you bound while I fuck you? Unlike you, I stick to my agreements.”

  “Fine, then remove my pants and do it. You do know this is akin to rape, right?”

  She snorted. “You can’t rape the willing. Besides, wasn’t this part of our negotiation? It appears you haven’t the cajones to follow through. Well, I do.” She bent down and licked a path from my chest to my throat. I shivered from the contact. “Any preference on how you like to be fucked? I have toys—even a dildo if anal is your thing.”

  My anticipation began to diminish into fear. Evidently, what I’d done to her had triggered something unexpected. I never predicted this side of her. I hadn’t prepared for wrath, but there it was in all its beautiful predatory glory.

  As much as she despised me, right now, her body was responding to me. I could see the swell of her breast and her hands quivering as she touched me.

  I watched with fascination as she removed the belt from her dress. She let it fall to the floor and stood completely naked before me. I had seen her without clothing before, but something had drastically changed. I grunted in satisfaction as my eyes focused on Ellery. Her breasts were ripe with taut nipples that teased me. Her cleft was glistening with wetness that had me aching for a taste.