Knots

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Knots Page 6

by Chanse Lowell


  “He spanked you because of me?” Jeanie’s voice cracked, and she shoved up to sitting. Her heart about dropped into the mattress. She could never be okay with someone else being harmed because of her. How was that even something to consider? Why would he do that? Her eyes cut to the door once more.

  Then something tightened inside her, and her clit actually throbbed.

  Oh God . . . This sounded scary. And way too erotic for her own good. Why was her body reacting this way?

  Her nipples tightened, and her breathing deepened.

  Mark. Spanking.

  Jesus—kill her now. Preferably with a paddle, since that was what she was now visualizing—she was that demented.

  “Yeah.” Tia laughed again. “He knew I was baiting him. I was pushing him on purpose, being a brat. He never spanked me in anger. Actually, he thought it was fun. He got out his aggression, and I got exactly what I wanted.”

  “You wanted him to do that to you?” Jeanie’s throat was painfully dry. She searched her dresser once more for that water bottle.

  She blinked and realized she’d never set that thing there right next to the lamp. Mark must’ve done it. But when?

  She ripped the lid off and gulped the rest down in several thirsty swallows.

  “Of course I wanted it. I may not be in love with him, but he’s such an amazing man, and a fabulous Dom, that I wanted to help him. He was about to come unhinged. He needed an outlet, and since I knew he didn’t really want to be fucking me, it was the next best thing for him. He’s got the most incredible control. God, you’ll be so happy with him. Please, don’t . . .” Tia’s voice was strangled with thick emotions “ . . . just don’t hurt him, okay? He really loves you.”

  “How can you say that? He barely knows me . . .” Jeanie shut her eyes and tipped her head back. Night. Mare. And she was stuck in the quicksand, already unable to get out. How had this happened to her? She came here to bury her husband, not get tangled up in a sexy man’s need to control her.

  “He picked Pono’s brain about you anytime he could. He was constantly calling him and asking how you were doing, what you were both up to.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah.” Tia swallowed. “But thankfully, Pono never picked up on what he was really doing. Mark would be in a pissy mood after—feeling guilty again for doing that to his friend. But he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to protect you, even though he knew you weren’t his. Mark has this deep need to keep you safe. You probably didn’t notice this either, but last time you both came to visit and had dinner with us, he moved your second glass of wine away from you. You were drinking too much and—”

  “I had to. Mark made me extremely nervous, and the only way I could be around him was . . .” Jeanie trailed off. Christ—she’d just admitted to being . . . what? Insanely attracted to this man? Well, who the fuck wasn’t? He was gorgeous, and his intimidating demeanor meant she’d want him even more. Yeah, she could barely breathe around him either—he was that overpowering with his presence. And she craved it probably more than he craved her. But how would she ever admit that after her husband had barely passed? This was sick! She was a twisted bitch!

  “I know, hon. I know. You were a nervous wreck around him, but he took your drink when you weren’t looking, dumped most of it into his glass and then he didn’t touch it.”

  “Pono didn’t notice this?”

  Tia chuckled. “That man was oblivious to everything going on around him. Besides, I’d distract him, chat him up so Mark could talk to you. But you would almost clam up and blush, and stammer. It was adorable.”

  “I did?” Jeanie choked on her words. She was never any of those things. In fact, with Pono, she always worried she was being too bossy. Her entire life, she came across as confident and put-together. How did Mark turn her into this simpering fool without even trying?

  “Think about it, Jeanie . . . Think about how you could barely look at him. Why do you think that was?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.”

  “You do too. You want him more than you can possibly believe. And you know he returns it. It’s like a fucking inferno being near you two. I kept thinking at some point you’d leave Pono and come after him, but you never did.”

  “Dammit! I thought Mark hated me. I thought he couldn’t stand being around me, and he was looking out for his friend’s best interest.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because it was obvious I wasn’t the right woman for Pono. I didn’t make him blissfully happy,” Jeanie blurted.

  “Ahh . . . Now, we’re getting there. This is what I kept telling Mark. You felt guilty. God, you two are quite the pair—Mark feeling guilty for taking any piece of you he could, like a greedy man, and you pushing Mark and Pono away because you’re insecure and think you can’t satisfy either of them. Stop doing that to yourself. It’s time to let yourself be happy, and I have no doubt you’ll be so happy with Mark, you won’t even recognize yourself anymore.”

  “Hey . . . I can’t . . . I need to . . . I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay? I need to go to Pono’s parents’ house. But I . . . I’m sure I’ll need to,” Jeanie stammered. She was a mess, and her tongue was heavy and barely moving.

  There was so much to take in, and her mind was spinning—unraveling fast. And now she had to deal with his family, when guilt already clouded around her.

  But why? Why would she feel guilty? She hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Anytime, sweetie. Call me whenever you want. I’m here for both of you. He’s still my friend.”

  Jeanie released a stuttering sigh. “Talk to you later.” She ended the call, and her mind raced almost as much as her heart.

  How was she supposed to face Mark after this? And oh, dear Lord—Pono’s parents? How could she be near them when her head was now filled with images of Mark, staring at her during past get-togethers and him watching out for her, doing what was best for her?

  The wine comment. Fuck! That really got to her. It hit her straight in the gut and funneled down to her pussy, making it clench and moisten. What kind of a man would take the time—give that much attention to a woman he might never have?

  Her eyes misted, and her heart clamped down like those knots in her body were encroaching on its space.

  She got up, turned the knob and took several deep breaths before walking out that door.

  He was standing in the hallway a few feet away, staring at her door with a concerned look on his face.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and steady like the thrum of a heartbeat.

  Even those two words from him did something to her. She braced her hand on her stomach to keep herself steady and from possibly throwing up.

  “Did you hear my conversation?”

  His nose wrinkled. “No, Jean. I respect your privacy. I kept a few feet away so I purposefully wouldn’t hear. I’m not a controlling asshole.”

  “I know that,” she said, her chin tucked down and her gaze barely on him.

  “We need to talk,” he began.

  She held up a hand and swallowed, shaking her head. “It’ll have to wait. I need to get over to the Finaus’ home. If you don’t want to take me, then I’ll catch a cab.”

  “No, you won’t. I’m going with you.”

  She smiled for a second and reflected on what Tia had said. Protective. Yeah, he was. And it made her pulse speed up—a lot.

  “Okay.” She blinked and shuffled toward him two steps.

  “You’re not going to fight me on this? You seemed worried yesterday when I kept holding your hand and touching you.” His eyes searched her face.

  “I was worried it looked like we were together as a couple,” she answered, her stomach flipping when she remembered her hand in his.

  “And what if we were?”

  “Gaaaawd,” she groaned and turned her head away from him. “I can’t handle this right now . . .”

  “You need to tell me—what’s so wrong with it? I get you want
to keep his family happy, but do you think they’d be upset if you found someone else to take care of you?”

  Her head snapped toward him, and so many emotions bubbled up out of her that she had to clasp her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t lash out at him. Why was she feeling so violent? What was he doing to her? “Pono never took care of me!”

  “I know, and it pissed me off to no end. He should’ve.”

  “It’s none of your goddamned business,” she all but shouted.

  “You should be angry. It was his job as your husband to take care of you, and he failed in that regard.”

  “How would you know?” Her voice lowered and filled with painful longing, but not for Pono.

  He took a few steps closer and stopped far enough away he couldn’t reach her with his hands. Was he doing this on purpose—acting like the proverbial carrot before the stubborn horse’s face?

  Dear God, she was sweating again. It was like she was back in sweltering Phoenix instead of breezy, cool California.

  “I know because I talked to him all the time. I told him he needed to step up and be a man—take care of you. You did too much for him and your marriage. He knew I was right, and he . . . Forget it.” His fists balled up. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you over.”

  “Okay.” She dipped her head down, moistened her lips and said, “Thank you, Mark, for everything. I do like knowing I have a friend here that’s looking out for me.”

  “I’ll always look out for you,” he said, his voice firm.

  She nodded, went to grab her purse and decided she only needed a few bucks to buy herself some dinner afterward, so she left it behind.

  When she went back in the hallway, he had one hand cupped over his forehead and looked deep in thought.

  “Hey, you okay?” she asked, stepping forward and without thinking, running her palm over his thickly muscled shoulder and down his side. He trembled for a second, then his piercing eyes swung on her.

  “You’re touching me.” He stopped breathing.

  “I am.”

  “I . . . If you want . . .”

  She was panting. God, she was so aroused, it wasn’t even funny. And here, all she’d done was touch his shoulder and ribs.

  “I . . . don’t know what I want,” she admitted.

  He turned to face her directly. “I know you’re scared and confused, but I can help you, Jean. Let me.”

  “Help me how?”

  “Give me two weeks. I can do this—I can show you things—open you up to love again.” His fingers flexed, then softened.

  She blinked and her mouth gaped. “Mark . . . I . . .”

  “Say yes. You need this, and so do I. Two weeks. You can even house-shop during that time, and I’ll help you with that as well. Just stay, and say two weeks are mine.”

  “What does two weeks even mean?” Her forehead creased.

  “It means you’re mine for two weeks—devoted to me.”

  “I’m not a sub, and I need some time to myself. I know I was always working hard to please Pono, but I—”

  He covered her mouth and looked completely anguished. “Please me. That’s all it means. Do what I say, and ask questions when you need to, but you focus on me entirely, and it’ll release you. You’ll be free—I promise, and I never lie.”

  She swallowed, pressed her lips tight and when his hand fell away, she inhaled, then a barrage of words tumbled out of her—“I want the mornings to myself. I want to be able to cook dinner for you if I’m staying here for free for two weeks.”

  “Oh, it won’t be free.” He smirked.

  “I’m not a damn call girl.”

  “Hey, I never said that.” He gripped her chin and gazed right in her eyes with so much focus and determination, there was no way she could look away, though she desperately wanted to. “You’re the most innocent, pure woman I know—and it’s one of the many things I love about you.”

  “Love?”

  “Yes, fucking love. I don’t know what Tia said to you, but I’m sure she mentioned that at some point. And just so you know, she reports back to her Dom anything you tell her, and most likely, he’ll inform me of what was said as well, so she—”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her eyes narrowed. “So everything I just told her in confidence . . . ?”

  He sighed hard and heavy. “I’m not trying to be a jerk here, but she knows what a Dom needs. She’s trained to know.”

  “And I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here . . .” Her eyes drifted down, and he tipped her head back.

  “Don’t do that. Look. At. Me.”

  Her eyes popped back up, and she bit the insides of her cheeks as her feet shifted around. “I’ll give you two weeks, but you’ll be disappointed. I’ve never been able to make a single man happy in my life. I try—I try really hard, but I always get it wrong.”

  “You won’t with me,” he said, his gaze steady, his voice husky, “because you’re not going to be leading—I will. And I’ll make sure both our needs are always met. That’s another promise.”

  “That’s a lot of promises.”

  “Sir.”

  “What?” Her forehead creased so tight it almost stung, and her head jolted back a little.

  His grip tightened on her chin, and his other hand cupped the back of her neck. “You call me Sir, and it begins now.”

  “But we’re going to Pono’s paren—”

  “Kiss me, Jean. No more discussion right now.” He leaned in and swallowed up her bleating cry of protest.

  Her arms immediately wrapped around his broad back. Before she knew it, he pulled her hands off him, had both her wrists clasped in one of his, thrust above her head and she was glued up against a wall.

  Sweating? That was . . . She was on fire.

  She whimpered when his erection pressed into her stomach. His tongue invaded her mouth, took over and his other hand ran softly down her side. The contrast between the rough and soft made her knees buckle.

  She was slipping down the wall.

  His hand went to her ribs, then moved down and wrapped around her waist. He pulled her hips into his and made this hungry, devouring moan. Her pussy clenched.

  Shit. He was so hard and breathing like he was about to come undone.

  “Do you know how much I want you? How long I’ve waited for this . . . Christ, Jean . . . You drive me absolutely fucking nuts for you.” He nipped at her neck, sucked at the curve and then his breath washed down her shirt. “So many times I thought about just throwing you over my shoulder and taking off with you—that’s how insane I am over you.”

  Goose bumps flowed down her chest, and her nipples tightened.

  Her words were tied up inside her, lost in the millions of knots he’d created inside her.

  “Two weeks will never be enough with you,” he said, his voice husky and deep.

  His tongue washed over the dip at her throat.

  A split second later, he let go of her and she swayed in her spot.

  “Fuck . . .” she breathed.

  “Yeah, I want to, but we’ve gotta be somewhere.” He adjusted himself in his pants, and for the first time ever, she braved a long hard look at his crotch.

  He was fucking gigantic.

  She swallowed. And her throat, that had previously been dry, was now drowning in saliva.

  What the hell was wrong with her? She was staring at Pono’s friend’s dick.

  “Let’s go,” he said, voice raspy.

  She was propelled forward by him, and it wasn’t until she was in his car, speeding away, that she realized this was insane.

  She’d just agreed to be his, and they were going to her in-laws right now. He’d behave, right?

  She glanced over at him, and his jaw was set tight, but there was a look of smugness in his eyes.

  Shit. This was going to be . . . awkward? Amazing? The end of the Jeanine she’d always known and disliked?

  Ah God, he’d already turned her life upside down.
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  Chapter 5

  Jeanie was holding her breath.

  “I’m actually glad to be here,” Mark said.

  He pulled into Pono’s parents’ neighborhood, and she made a face when he parked the car.

  “What’s wrong?” He turned the car off.

  “It’s just . . . I’m sorry. Everything’s so different now. Every time Pono and I ever came here, he’d take five minutes to park the car. He couldn’t ever decide which spot would be the best.”

  “Well, seeing as how you’re wearing heels, I didn’t want you to have to walk far. I can always move the car if his family needs me to.”

  She smiled.

  His heart lifted like the corners of his mouth.

  “So beautiful,” he said. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

  “Yeah, me too—I mean with you. You’re . . . Well, you’re very distracting with how good-looking you are,” she said and ducked her head down with a shy glance his way every few seconds.

  He wanted to lean over and kiss her so badly, but there was no way he could do that here.

  “Jeanie! Jeanie!” Marly screeched and flew at the car.

  “Looks like the president of your fan club is here to greet you,” he said, grinning.

  He got out of the car before Jeanie could make a comment back.

  Marly jumped around behind him as he leaned in to help Jeanie out of the car.

  Jeanie’s white summer dress was modest and had petite navy flowers all over the skirt, but something about it turned him on so much he wondered how he was going to get through this without a giant erection.

  “Smell good, too,” he told Jeanie, leaning in right as he pulled her all the way up.

  Another pink-cheeked look and innocent smile, and he was even harder.

  He locked up the car and closed it up.

  Jeanie glanced at him once more over her shoulder, eyes soft and seemingly captivated by him.

  Jesus, fuck—she was killing him with those furtive looks of hers. How much did she think he could take before he’d snap and do that caveman shit where he chucked her onto his shoulder and took off, never to return?

 

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