Bound for Christmas

by Yvette Hines

After he’d returned back home, he’d attempted to have several civilized conversations with his dad and assist in his care, but the old man wasn’t having it. Not without more than a few choice words on how disappointed he was with Evan. Three hours later, Evan found himself showered, dressed in dark gray jeans and a black t-shirt and on his way across town.

  The music from the front area of the massive warehouse where people danced, socialized and watched the shows being performed on stage filtered into the back, the second half of the structure. A wall with a door had been erected years ago to separate those who came for the fetish entertainment and those who came to play. Evan moved from station to station observing and just being there.

  He knew it was only a matter of time before he took hold of a flogger and worked one of the unbound submissives. What he got inside of walls such as this was what most people went to gyms and fitness centers to achieve. Even though he played basketball and lifted weights three times a week at the gym it didn’t give him the same satisfaction. Hearing the cracks of whips, the slaps of paddles, the swishing of floggers accompanied by the moans of subs feeling the sensations was more of the sounds of home to him than when he entered the house where James Douglas resided.

  Over the years he had become highly proficient with the use of various instruments of the lifestyle and enjoyed wielding them. The exertion usually released the tension throughout his body. However they weren’t what he loved most.

  What caused shivers of excitement to race along his spine and heat to ignite his blood was restraints. The simplicity of bounding either by ropes, straps or cuffs. It didn’t matter to him. It was the trust factor that went along with it. The knowledge that a woman would allow him to secure her body to a bed, table or board and willing submit to his tutelage and command during intimacy.

  Finding that woman had been an arduous task. The act of being tied down and unable to free themselves was scarier to people than even being spanked. Most women he dated bolted at the sight of cuffs or gave him a flat out “no” when he brought it up. He’d never even approached them about coming to an event with him.

  Even though he enjoyed the environment, especially since he didn’t maintain long relationships, he had no desire to live his life in the club scene. His desires were private to him, and hopefully whoever came along. A beautiful face, with tawny complexion came to his mind.

  Standing in the mist of Doms and Masters working with slaves and submissives he recalled holding Zoey Carliegh’s wrist on the plane and feeling her pulse calm by his grip as she relaxed, secured. Knowing that she trusted him, a complete stranger to touch her, restrain her, even slightly, caused his gut to tighten then and now.

  He would have loved to bind her limbs and torso and stare down at her, see if those expressive brown eyes darkened with pleasure as her features relaxed as she surrendered.

  But he had to let that thought go. Drop the vision. He’d missed his chance, to get to know her more, possibly ask her out or test the waters to see how far they could go.

  Damn, he’d give up three wishes granted by a genie just to kiss her, taste her full lips and see if they were as succulent as they appeared.

  Shaking his head, he cleared his mind. It was time for him to play and lose himself in the act of dominance.

  “Who’s next” One of the scene monitors stood near a bench, with several paddles hung from a stand beside it, where a black female with lovely dark ebony skin waited. She wore a see through shirt that revealed a green and black corset and thong below.

  “I am.” Moving into the center of the circle Evan enjoyed the woman’s thick curves and the way she held her chin up with confidence even though her eyes remained lowered to the floor. A sign that she had an inner strength, something he always found appealing.

  When the scene monitor began to lead the woman to the bench, Evan stopped him. “I’ll take care of that.”

  Approaching the sub, he asked, “What’s your name.”

  “Regal.”

  It fit her. Where ever she’d gotten the scene name, it suited her well. “I’m Flyer. Have you ever experienced the paddle before?”

  “Yes, sir.” She still stared down.

  “You may look at me,” he instructed.

  Lifting her face, she observed him with dark brown eyes. “Yes, sir.”

  He smiled at her, she smiled back. There were no sparks of electricity between them, but he still appreciated her willingness to submit to him.

  Taking a moment, he questioned her about injuries, problems she’d had in the past with restraints or play.

  She admitted that she didn’t mind her hands being bound, but preferred her feet be left free. The fact that she didn’t desire to be completely restrained didn’t bother him, she wasn’t his. They were both present for a certain level of mutual enjoyment and that was it. Letting her know he understood, they both repeated the events safe word as he secured her in place.

  To begin he chose a paddle that would offer him more resistance to start off with, knowing that he would need to warm her ass up first before taking her deeper into the experience.

  Squeezing his hand around the wooden paddle, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly to clear his mind of everything he’d had to deal with that day, all the negativity from his father and his own disappointment of allowing Zoey to walk away, to focus on this moment and providing Regal with the sensation she needed.

  * * *

  “Let me go, damn it!”

  “Listen, Mr. Douglas, you have two choices. Either take your bath like a man or take it like a baby, but either way you’re getting one. You stink.”

  Evan came down the stairs the next morning to a duet of raised voices. He could hear his father’s angry words and the squeaking sound of the hospital bed. The sound he assumed coming from his father thrashing around. Teresa was too small of a woman to be tussling with his father.

  After last night at Snaps he was feeling better and calmer, not to mention the excitement bubbling through him knowing that he would be in the cockpit and finally getting his ninety day company probation underway.

  Deciding to give her a hand, he laid his garment bag over the back of the couch. He had an afternoon flight and would dress in the crew room at the airport. He ate up the distance quickly to his father’s room.

  “I don’t want a--”

  “I’m sure you don’t. But if I’m going to be able to tend to you without HAZMAT gear you’re getting one,” the woman countered.

  Entering the room, two things struck him instantly. The first was seeing that his father may have been fussing and complaining but he was lying on his side, bare-assed, being sponged down by the nurse. The second thing was more shocking than seeing his father in his ‘all-natural’ state; the identity of the nurse.

  If he’d been clothes lined by a professional wrestler he could not have been knocked over quicker than seeing Zoey Carliegh dressed in cotton candy decorated scrubs. From her side profile he could see that the top’s high v-neck was conservative, but did little to hide the full swells. Her ass may have looked cute decorated in the sugary treats displayed on the material, but it didn’t help it appear any less delectable.

  She still wore the same bun at the back of her head. She should have appeared clinical and efficient, but to him she was just plain sexy. He couldn’t believe she was here, in his house, bathing his father. At the moment, Evan would have switched places with his old man in a heartbeat to have Zoey put her hands on him.

  Chapter Five

  “What the hell are you doing in here?” His father, the first to spot him, scowled.

  “Seeing if your pleasant disposition has changed,” he replied to his father, never taking his gaze off the woman beside the bed.

  He watched Zoey as she quickly grabbed the sheet at his dad’s feet and snapped it over his lower half, giving her patient privacy. As she turned to face him, he saw the instant recognition as her lovely brown eyes stretched wide and her lips parted as if she were about to
say something.

  “Can’t a man take a bath in peace?” His father continued his rants interrupting her.

  “Mr. Doug-las…” she stumbled over the last name. Evan figured she must have made a mental connection of the last name. She looked from father to son as she continued, “rudeness never gets a person anywhere.”

  He knew what Zoey was looking for, a physical resemblance between him and his dad, but she wouldn’t discover one. Evan had the same hair color and facial features as his mother, the only thing he’d received from his dad’s genes had been his eyes.

  His father grumbled but remained silent.

  Evan was impressed to see a person actually silence his father. The only other person James Douglas had listened to was his mother. Evan didn’t know if he was awed or jealous that this woman who had no connection to his family could get his father to watch his words, when he couldn’t do it at all.

  “If you need a moment with your father, I’ll be finished in a minute.” Zoey stepped to the table and dipped the sponge into a plastic basin of water and wrung it out.

  “I’d like to speak with you if you have a second,” he said. “About my father.” He didn’t really have any pressing questions about his father’s health. Most of the things he’d asked Teresa when he returned back from Tre’s house last night. However, there was no way he was leaving the house without talking to Zoey, sans his father’s presence.

  “Okay. Give me about ten minutes.”

  He noted there was a slight tremble to her hands as they hovered above his father’s shoulder with the moist sponge.

  As he turned he heard his father spew, “Don’t you go asking her my private business. I can take care of myself.”

  Evan shifted back around. There was no way he was going to take his father degrading him before Zoey. A man had to have some pride. “Of course you can, Dad, that’s why you have twenty-four hour nursing care.”

  The corners of his father’s eyes and mouth tightened as he stared back at him, angry, but silent. Assured this moments battle was over, Evan continued towards the kitchen. He had an hour to get to the airport before he had to meet the pilot he’d be shadowing for the next month, but talking to Zoey was more important to him right now. His mind was rolling with a multitude of questions wondering how Zoey orchestrated it that she was in his parent’s house. Had I said something? Given some clue?

  In the kitchen he pulled out a bagel from the refrigerator and pulling it apart he tossed the two halves into the toaster. His thoughts shifting to every news and special he’d seen about people tracking someone down and infiltrating their life. Was that Zoey?

  No. His gut shouted. Even though he’d spent only a few hours with her, there was nothing about her that shouted fatal attraction.

  If he hadn’t spent last night with hot, erotic dreams of her playing in his mind, perhaps he could be a little less unsettled.

  By the time he was standing at the counter finishing off the last bite of his buttery bagel and a large glass of carrot juice, Zoey came strutting into the kitchen.

  She paused at the entrance and just stared at him as she twisted a ring on her left hand with a cheery quartz stone. He only knew the stone because he’d gotten his mother a bracelet with the same jewel in it.

  “Small world,” Zoey said dropping her hands and stepping deeper into the room.

  There was barely ten feet separating them now. He’d purposely remained resting against the counter instead of sitting at the table, ensuring there would be nothing between them.

  “Very.” He continued to assess her movements. “Is Teresa off today? Are you covering for her?” He folded his arms over his chest. “How’d you know where I live?”

  She smoothed her hands along her pants. “Wow, which question would you like me to answer first?” Zoey’s stance mirrored his now as she crossed her arms below her breasts giving him a pointed look, as if she could read his thoughts.

  Spark. He couldn’t help but smile at her fire. “Let’s start with the first one. Where is Teresa?”

  “Not unconscious in my trunk, just in case you were wondering.”

  He chuckled. He pushed away from the counter and moved closer to her. “That’s good, since I really don’t have time to talk to the cops.”

  Zoey’s lips twitched before they curled up into a smile.

  She really was beautiful, he thought. A walking fantasy.

  “I’ve been your father’s caretaker for over a year now. Teresa is one of several resource nurses who fill in for me when I have a day or two off.”

  “Or take a delightful trip home for a family reunion.”

  Her grin stretched wider making her full lips that much more captivating. “Or that.” She glanced down at the floor then her gaze met his again. “Yesterday if I would have known that Mr. Douglas was your father I could have saved both of us the surprise. However, I never discuss my client’s with others.” She paused. “Your father talks about you often.”

  I bet. “I’m sure his description of me is anything but flattering. Making any identifiers to the man I actually am hard to match.”

  She didn’t deny his words. That was confirmation enough for Evan.

  “I’m sure Dr. Hendrix your father’s cardiologist probably already let you know that your father has not had another stroke in the last six months. However, he still isn’t doing as well as he should be.”

  “Two weeks ago when I spoke to the doctor he mentioned my father’s blood pressure continued to be unstable.”

  “That’s correct. We’ve changed his medication again for the fourth time, attempting to keep it down. While I’ve been away it has remained low, but still more elevated than we would like.”

  Shit. His father was an arrogant bastard, but the last thing he needed was for the man to have a stroke again. “My coming home probably hasn’t helped.”

  “Actual, its lower today than it has been in the last two weeks.”

  That surprised him to hear. He was going to allow himself to believe for a moment that his father was pleased he was home and out of the military. Checking his watch he noted the time. He needed to get going to the airport.

  “I need to get out of here.”

  “That’s right. Your new job, right?”

  The whirlpool of emotions swirling inside of him rocked his core. Since his brother’s death there hadn’t been anyone in his life that remembered the little things that concerned him. He wasn’t going to look too deeply into Zoey recalling he was going to start a new job, but it brought clarity to him to something that had been on his mind.

  Stepping closer to her, he left a foot of space between them. “I’ll return Wednesday around six. Have dinner with me.”

  The thought that he didn’t have time in his life for a relationship played on the fringes of his mind. However, he’d missed out on an opportunity with this woman the other day and he wasn’t going to let it happen again.

  Her teeth seized her bottom lip and he almost groaned wanting to nibble the thick swell himself.

  “If you need me to tell you more about your father’s care, we don’t need to have dinner for that.”

  He shook his head and lowered his voice. “Zoey, this has nothing to do with my father.”

  She swallowed. Proof she wasn’t immune to him.

  “You’re father is my patient, Evan. It wouldn’t be appropriate--”

  “Him. Not me.” There was no way that fate was going to bring Zoey back into his life, his home and he was going to let her put up a wall between them. “Just dinner, Zoey.”

  Her pretty brown eyes brightened under the kitchen light, her chest rose and fell as she inhaled deeply. “Fine. But not Wednesday.” She held her hand up stopping him before he could say something. “I work six days a week and I will not be off again until next Monday.”

  Taking hold of her hand he squeezed it. “Then next Monday it is.” It was perfect. Thursday he would be flying to California, then Denver and onto Arizona and would not be
back to North Carolina until late Sunday night.

  “Until then.” She stepped back and pulled her hand a little attempting to leave the kitchen.

  In a blink Evan was transported to the airport and the moment he’d made the mistake of not kissing Zoey the last time.

  Tugging her forward, he stepped toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He heard her gasp as she stared up into his face. He could feel the rush of her breath brush his lips as he lowered his head.

  Her brown eyes darkened as recognition of what was about to happen hit her. Lowering his lips to hers, he paused a moment, just barley allowing a gentle touch between them. He wanted her, but he wasn’t trying to force his desire on Zoey if she wasn’t feeling the same compelling power between them.

  When he felt her soft sigh slip from her parted lips and her body slightly settle against his, he knew she was consenting. Wasting no more time, he covered her lips tasting the fruity flavor of her gloss as he pressed his one hand to the center of her back flushing her body fully along his. She felt wonderful in his arms, as if she belonged there. He would have expected for her curvaceous frame to feel new or strange, however in some intrinsic way she seemed familiar.

  He was never one to believe in reincarnation legends or soul-mate myths, but he couldn’t deny that something in him connected with Zoey on a metaphysical level. Something he couldn’t truly fathom or explain.

  Maintaining command of the kiss, he pressed her lips further apart and entered her mouth. His tongue slipped into the warm recess and enjoyed the combination of her sweet mint flavor in combination with the salty buttery taste still on his tongue from the bagel. Heat infused his body as her soft form aligned with his. Dragging his other hand down to the top swell of her ass, he kept himself from actually palming her backside. He wanted her to know how much he wanted her, but not consider him some classless horn-dog.

  As he stroked the tip of his tongue along the rough of her mouth and felt her tremble followed by a low moan, he leaned back, ending the kiss. The small sound of her pleasure would have easily pushed him over the edge if he didn’t watch it. Thankfully, restraint and control had been a part of him for too many years to become carried away. Time was not on their side this morning, his father was a stone’s throw away, her patient, and he needed to get to work.