Committed

by Sidney Bristol

  She tiptoed back to bed, to find both cats sprawled across Damien, blinking in the lamplight. They glanced at her as if to say, We approve. Why don’t you?

  “I think they’ve added you to the pride.” She slipped in next to him and stroked Yoshi’s back.

  “Lucky me.” Damien reached over, wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her down for a soul-searing kiss.

  She blinked at him, her wits officially scrambled, as he stroked her hair with one hand and Mario the other. The man had talent. He ran his thumb over the bracelet still circling her wrist.

  “I don’t follow rules very well,” he said.

  “What?” Her addled brain couldn’t even process a simple statement. Besides, she had no idea what he was talking about.

  “The switch bracelet?”

  “Oh.” She buried her face in the cool pillows while he chuckled at her.

  He rubbed her back as the mattress shifted, dipping toward him as he rolled onto his side. Cat paws pressed into her lower back as one feline took his precious time finding another suitable spot to settle into.

  She peeked up at him and slipped the bracelet off her wrist, offering it to him.

  “You didn’t get a fair turn.” He pushed the bracelet away.

  “I don’t want it.”

  He frowned and accepted it, but didn’t seem to like the idea as much as she’d expected him to.

  Poppy faced him, her head pillowed on her arm. “There’s something about our dynamic that makes me submissive in a way I’ve never been before. I don’t really want to switch with you, but I need to know it’s an option. Does that make sense?”

  “Not really, but it might in the morning.” He yawned to punctuate the point that it was creeping past the early morning hours.

  Poppy turned the lamp off and let him draw her closer.

  “I’ll probably never be a real submissive,” she said.

  Damien chuckled. “Sweetness, there is no checklist of what makes a ‘real’ submissive.”

  His words offered a little comfort, but she had to wonder if it was enough.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Damien stepped out of the shower and the scent of frying bacon slapped him in the face. His mouth began to water and his stomach grumbled. The hurried dinner he’d had last night had long since worn off, leaving him famished.

  He stepped around the corner and ambled into the kitchen.

  Poppy leaned over the stove just enough that the hem of her blue dress rode up to expose the curve of her bottom. He grinned and touched the bracelet on his wrist, as if it were a good-luck charm.

  She hummed to herself, oblivious of his presence, so he tiptoed across the wooden floor, careful to avoid the troublesome squeaky places. He cupped her bare ass and squeezed. The sound of popping grease didn’t hide her intake of breath.

  “This outfit looks great on you,” he whispered into her ear. While she’d showered first, he’d perused her interesting collection of costumes and selected one, challenging her to wear it. He wasn’t disappointed.

  “It’s one of my favorites.” She glanced over her shoulder, rewarding him with a bit of a smile.

  He slid his hand up further. Just as he’d suspected—no panties.

  Very nice.

  “What princess is this?” He couldn’t place the blue dress with its little puffed sleeves, but he wasn’t exactly up-to-date on his princess movies.

  “It’s not a princess at all.” Poppy chuckled. “Alice in Wonderland?”

  “Oh, but I thought you were into princess stuff. Is she a princess?”

  “No, but it’s one of the outfits that doesn’t need a wig to make sense, so I end up as Alice or Cinderella a lot. Though now I can add Rapunzel to the list, since she finally got a movie.”

  “Okay, so which princess is your favorite?” He leaned against the counter, ignoring the ridiculousness of the statement. There were worse things to be fanatical about than princesses.

  “My favorite princess is Belle, but there are others that I really like. Tiana, Mulan, and Pocahontas are some of my favorites because of the history and lore behind them, but I don’t pull the outfits off well. Well, the last two aren’t technically princesses, but those are the ones I really like.”

  “Why’s that?” There were differences between them besides the color of their dresses?

  “Do you really want to know?” She wrinkled her nose and cracked eggs into another skillet.

  “Enlighten me.” He could spend hours getting to know her, and still be fascinated by the layers. This weekend wouldn’t be enough. He needed more of her. A lot more.

  Damien stalked into his office, muttering under his breath. “Damn. Fucking Cooper.”

  It didn’t help that it was Monday morning. Cooper just made it worse.

  “Careful, he’ll hear you.”

  He pivoted, blinking at the woman hunched over his desk, scribbling away on a form.

  “Gio, what are you doing in here?” He circled to his chair and sat down across from her.

  “Being smart and hiding, unlike you. I do not want to get roped into staying late tonight.” She glanced up. “What did you get pulled into doing?”

  “Matías and I are going to go do a damn stakeout,” he grumbled.

  “That’s what you get for sticking your nose where the PD doesn’t want it.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Word had finally gotten back to his boss, Howard Cooper, that he and Matías had shown up at a crime scene, uninvited. It wasn’t something totally disallowed, but departments got territorial about their cases and the few minutes they’d spent on scene had clearly bruised someone’s toes. As a result, both Matías and Damien were getting the shitty jobs.

  “I think he’ll make you case agent on this one,” Gio said, as she scribbled some more.

  “Not seeing that happen right now.” He pulled a few takeout menus from his desk drawer, procrastinating on the truly distasteful task of the afternoon.

  His personal phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket.

  Thinking of U.

  Three little words had such a strange effect on him, just because of who had typed them.

  “What’s up with you lately? I’ve barely seen you.” Gio leaned back in the chair and clicked her pen a few times.

  His standard reply was a kneejerk, “Nothing.” But that wasn’t the truth.

  “I met someone I really like, and I feel like I’m fucking it up already. Every time we make plans, work comes up.” He flipped through one menu so hard the creased paper ripped. He made a disgusted noise in his throat and tossed it in the trash.

  “Send her flowers. Girls love flowers.”

  “You don’t.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not a real girl. I’m guessing she is, though.”

  Damien smiled despite the unpleasant circumstances. “She is kind of a girly-girl.”

  “Oh God, as long as she’s not like the last one.” Gio rolled her eyes.

  “What do you mean?” Damien had to think for a minute, and he still wasn’t sure who Gio was referring to.

  “The last one, with the big hair and bubble butt. She had that shrill laugh?” Gio leaned on his desk, her wild curls especially unruly today.

  “You mean the DA’s secretary?”

  “She had that many brain cells?”

  “Gio, your bitch is showing.”

  “Yeah, well, bitch is my best friend.” She shuffled her papers, scowling at nothing. Since getting shot, she’d been on the temperamental side, but Damien had chalked it up to stress.

  “Noticed. Anything you want to talk about?”

  She sighed. “Not really. So tell me more about this girl.”

  “She’s a nice white girl. Her name is Poppy. And she works at a high school, in the library.”

  “Oh, so the nerdy type, huh? Watch her, those are the ones who are into some freaky shit.”

  Damien smothered the laughter bubbling up inside of him. “Yeah?�
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  “Yeah. I hooked up with a records keeper once some time ago, and he wanted to do some weird stuff.” She shook her head. “Not my style.”

  He almost wanted to ask more questions, but he wouldn’t. It went against his policy of keeping those parts of his life separate.

  “Send her flowers. Everything will be fine,” Gio insisted.

  “Okay.” Flowers were easy enough, but he had a feeling it would take more than that to win her over. “Want to talk about whatever’s bugging you?”

  “No.” Gio gathered her papers and stood.

  “Hey.”

  Gio stopped at the office door, glancing over her shoulder.

  “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  Gio rolled her eyes. “In bed with this Poppy, I’ll bet.”

  Guilty.

  He chuckled and shook his head as she left.

  It only took a few minutes to locate a florist in the north part of town with a delivery service. Ten minutes later, he was assured a bouquet would arrive before the end of the school day. Maybe that would cushion his news that dinner and a movie would have to wait. Pity, since he’d hoped to make use of the remote-controlled vibrator again.

  “Would it be the end of the world if we had some damn lunch yet?” Matías flopped into one of the two guest chairs, a scowl on his face.

  “About to order. Want anything?” Damien handed a menu over.

  “How’d the weekend go?” Matías asked as he flipped through it.

  Damien glanced through the open door.

  “Good. Really good. You? Do anything?”

  “Reread all the old Emilio files.” He sighed. “There’s just nothing on him that we don’t already know.”

  Maybe it was time to give up the persistent hunt. It wasn’t looking good. It was frustrating to be so far behind Emilio, with no resources at their disposal or backing from the department. Huck Finn was considered a huge success because it removed the head of the big snake. But the big snakes weren’t the most deadly, and he feared they’d let the most dangerous one out of their grasp.

  No, he needed to see this through.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Poppy scanned through the library’s returned books and placed them on the cart.

  Just a little while longer and her day would be over, and she was so looking forward to this evening.

  She was already running through her closet mentally, putting together outfits, discarding some, tweaking others, trying to decide what she was going to wear tonight.

  “Miss?”

  Poppy turned toward the entrance to the library. A huge vase full of pink, orange, and yellow blossoms completely hid whoever carried the extravagant bouquet.

  “Oh, dear.” She circled the desk and took the vase as water sloshed over her hands. She cringed. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” LaToya Marshall leaned against the desk and brushed some of the water off her T-shirt. “Who gave you those, Miss?”

  “I don’t know.” Poppy hoisted the vase onto the counter. There was only one person who would send her flowers. She tugged the card out and opened it.

  Something sweet for the sweetest thing of all.

  The line was cheesy and silly, and she loved it.

  “Who is it from?” LaToya asked again, peering over at the card.

  “Someone I’m seeing.” Poppy pressed the card to her chest. It didn’t have Damien’s name on it, but she didn’t need that to tell her it was him.

  “Like a boyfriend?” In the last few weeks LaToya had opened up to Poppy, but what she wouldn’t give for the girl to be a little quieter right now.

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? You mean you don’t know?”

  “I mean, we like each other and we’re just seeing where it goes.”

  “Oh, Miss.” LaToya shook her head slowly. “That’s not how it works. He’s got to ask you to be his girlfriend or he’s just a player.”

  “Ooooooh?” Poppy leaned against the counter. “What do you think I should do?”

  “You should tell him to stop being a player and get serious. Put a ring on it if he’s real serious, because Miss, boys will say anything to get you to kiss them.” LaToya spoke with such a serious expression that Poppy didn’t have the heart to tell her relationships were more complicated. Let her keep her simplistic view.

  Besides, Poppy had done a lot more than kissing, and she had the marks to prove it. She’d had to change outfits twice before she found something that didn’t show off the heart-shaped bruises on her breasts.

  The bell rang, echoing down the halls, unleashing a flurry of activity.

  “Bye, Miss!” LaToya turned and jogged toward the door.

  “Don’t run.” Poppy shook her head and chuckled.

  “Sorry, Miss.”

  Her desk phone rang and she groaned.

  “Library,” she said into the receiver.

  “I’m looking for a book, but not just any book. I need a book with a princess in it who does stuff.”

  Warmth curled through her chest. “Well I have a few of those. Are you looking for anything specific or can I recommend something to you?”

  “Oh no, I need something where the princess also likes to be tied up, spanked, and—”

  “This is my work number,” she hissed into the phone, heat crawling up her neck.

  Damien chuckled.

  “I got the flowers.” She admired their blooms and leaned in to sniff a pink rose.

  “Do you like them?”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “Good. Look, I hate to do this, but I’m going to need a rain check on tonight. I know, I know, I don’t like it either. My boss is being a dick and sending me out tonight to do some things.”

  “Maybe tomorrow night?” She was disappointed, but she’d had him most of the weekend.

  “I’d like that, but I’ll be honest, we’re starting a new case and things get a little crazy.”

  “Okay. Well, just let me know when you have time to fit me in.”

  “Sweetness, I’d like to fit you in right now.”

  She shivered and her breath caught in her throat.

  “Would you like that?” he asked after a pause.

  “If you’re going to talk like this you have to call me back on my cell phone.”

  “You didn’t answer.”

  “I’m working.”

  “So am I.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll behave. Give Mario and Yoshi a scratch for me. I’ll be by before you know it. Promise.”

  She wanted to believe him. If she went two weeks without seeing him again, she didn’t want to think about the emotional fallout.

  “Poppy? You there?”

  “Yes, sorry. I’ll see you when I see you.”

  “Soon. I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  “Bye, sweetness.”

  She hung up and stared at the blooms, not so bright anymore.

  “Open the door, I’ve got pizza.”

  Poppy scurried to the door and pulled it open. She breathed a sigh of relief as Nikki stepped across the threshold, two pizzas in hand and Kyle on her arm.

  “Hey, guys.” Poppy closed the door as they took over her kitchen. “Thanks for coming over. Again.”

  Kyle wheeled on her, hands on her hips. “Dude, you won’t answer your fucking phone. I was going to come over whether you invited me or not.”

  “Sorry about that,” Poppy said sheepishly.

  “Darling, ignore her. I want to hear all about this man. Give me a hug.” Nikki enveloped her in a tight squeeze, which was exactly what Poppy needed.

  She sighed and rested her head against Nikki’s shoulder. Where did she even begin?

  “I’m hungry. You two get your cuddle-fest over with. I’m getting some pizza.” Kyle pulled down plates and opened the boxes.

  “How you doing, smalls?” Nikki asked quietly as she rubbed Poppy’s back.
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br />   “I’m hanging in there.”

  “He has you tied up in knots, doesn’t he?”

  “Yup.”

  “Can I give your cat a piece of sausage?” Kyle asked.

  “No.” Poppy twisted in Nikki’s hold. “That’s Mario, and don’t give him that or you’re cleaning up his puke.”

  “Oh, sorry, dude, no sausage for you. All for me.” Kyle popped the piece of meat in her mouth and carried her plate to the island. “No talking without me.”

  “Let’s get some food in you, dear.” Nikki stroked her hair. “I see you still aren’t wearing heels.”

  Poppy had completely forgotten about Nikki’s heel camp, for which she suspected her feet were grateful.

  “Holy hell. Did he get you these?” Kyle walked around the bar to examine the bouquet on her coffee table.

  “Yeah, those were his rain-check flowers.”

  Nikki served up Poppy two slices of pizza before getting herself some, and together they went into the living room to join Kyle.

  “Those are some nice flowers. He either really likes you or he’s guilty of something. Which is it?” Kyle sipped her drink, studying Poppy.

  Poppy hadn’t looked at the flowers that way. She rolled the thought around in her head a moment. “A little of both, I think.”

  “Explain.” Nikki snapped her fingers at Poppy. “You’ve barely said anything about him. First time I see him, you can’t get away fast enough. This last weekend, well, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t holding your hand under the table at IHOP.”

  “Oh God.” Poppy buried her face in her hands. She’d hoped they hadn’t noticed, but clearly that was too much to ask.

  “Spill.” Kyle poked her in the side and she twisted away.

  “Fine! Give me a second to actually reply.” She shoved Kyle’s hand away. “Well, he likes me. I think even I can read those signals loud and clear. But he had to leave over the weekend for work, and now he’s putting off our date tonight—because of work. We talked a little about it, but I don’t think he gets it.”

  “And what about your mother?” Nikki leaned forward, her food forgotten.

  Poppy groaned. “She’s still not speaking to me.”