by Rynne Raines
“You were convincing.” Remembering the graphic details Rachel had given her about orgies and partner swapping, Bianca cringed.
“I’m not proud of it or of hurting you. I hadn’t realized you were new to the lifestyle and thought I needed to pour it on really thick. I’m so sorry. There were so many times I wanted to tell him, but I was afraid he would hate me.”
“And now?”
“Now.” She let out a strangled laugh. “Now, my husband left me for another woman, my perfect little world has fallen apart, and I’ve realized that it really wasn’t perfect to begin with. I was a fool to think love came in the form of a white picket fence, corporate gatherings, and a suit and tie. Real love has whatever kind of structure works for the couple, and it doesn’t have boundaries. It comes in all different forms.” She sighed. “Even though this lifestyle still isn’t for me, it is for my brother.”
“Does Cade know the truth?”
“When I got here tonight he was already fuming. Something to do with you and an altercation with someone named Karlie. He was on his way out the door until I blurted out what I did to you. He wouldn’t even talk to me, just grabbed his keys and his helmet. I begged him not to take his bike, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Bianca shut her eyes against the image of Cade revving up the throttle and rocketing through the streets. “Did he say where he was going?”
“I assumed to find you, but that was nearly an hour ago.”
Had Cade gone to Eden, certainly Evan would have told him where she was. Even with heavy traffic, he should have been here by now. A knot formed in her abdomen at the image of twisted metal and flames. She snatched her cell from her purse and dialed.
Ringing began inside the office and Bianca tracked it to the top drawer of the desk. Not caring a whit about propriety and Cade’s privacy, she jerked it open. Her name flashed on the indigo screen and twinkled up at her, but Cade’s cell phone wasn’t the only thing that twinkled. Just beneath it, a jeweled choker gleamed and glinted with the light above, reflecting in the water forming in her eyes.
She needed to find him.
****
The entire universe and everything in it was out to get him, Cade decided as he dragged his ass through the quiet corridors of Halo toward his office. One hell of a long night. After getting a ticket, the greasy tow truck driver had scratched the front fender on his bike when he’d secured it to the flatbed of his piece of shit truck. No amount of sweet-talking had convinced the cops he didn’t need a night in lock-up to cool off. His keys were accidently misplaced in booking and his one phone call had gone straight to Bianca’s voicemail.
Life just doesn’t get any better than this.
Fortunately, Liz was still cleaning up, so he could at least get his spare keys.
He shoved open the door and froze. Pressing his fingers into his eyes, he shook his head once, then looked again.
Great. Now you’re dreaming, Sinclair.
But he wasn’t.
Not even his imagination could recreate the rich red of riotous locks framing those defiant yet gentle features, or the subtle bow of her parted lips as she slept folded into his oversized chair.
Hesitant, light footsteps carried him toward his desk as he quietly shucked out of his jacket. As he moved, he refused to take his eyes from Bianca incase she might vanish into a puff of smoke. He reached her side, then flexed his jaw against emotion as he kneeled and noticed the choker clutched tightly in her fingers.
“Where the hell’ve you been?” she softly mumbled and opened her eyes.
“Lock up. Don’t ask,” he added when her gaze flashed. “Surprised the cleaners haven’t already kicked you out.”
“Oh, they tried around one but I wouldn’t budge. I told ‘em I’d leave at closing.”
“It’s five-thirty a.m.” He stopped himself from brushing the hair from her face.
“Guess I lied.”
Tension crackled between them and the room seemed small, almost suffocating. Was there a right thing to say after so much had happened, after so much hurt?
“You’ll have a kink in your neck from sleeping in that goddamn chair.” Cade swallowed hard and cursed himself for sounding so flippant. He tried again. “I’m sorry about—”
“Please. God, please, don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” I’m the one who should be apologizing, Bianca thought as her eyes began filling. Holding back the tears wasn’t an option this time. Could he still love her after what she’d said to him, and how she’d said it to him? Fingers tightening on the necklace in her hand, she readjusted in the chair and dared to stroke the hair back from his forehead. Thick stubble darkened his jaw while circles of exhaustion shadowed under his eyes. “Have you slept at all?”
“Nah. Something about the smell of stale beer and urine in an eight-by-eight cell makes it hard to get cozy.”
“I can imagine,” she murmured. “Maybe we should talk later, after you’ve gotten some—”
“No.” He gripped her wrists. “No more later. Now. We’ll talk about this now. No more arrangements, no more lies, no more running.” He slipped the necklace out of her hand and tightened his fist.
“Bianca, I want to be the one to bring you bagels Saturday mornings, to be the man who orders you shellfish without asking, and the one who causes you to binge on sweets, but for all the right reasons.” The muscle in his jaw worked busily and his fingers trembled as he lifted the necklace, slowly stringing it around her throat. When he fastened the delicate clasp at the base of her neck, the white gold was like ice against her warm skin, but she savored its sensation.
He eased her back by the shoulders. Concentration lines marring his brow, he looked into her eyes. “I want you with me, Bianca. Always.”
She couldn’t speak, not now. The words wouldn’t pass the tears lodged in her throat. But she kissed him hard, deeply, and hoped he would understand she wanted everything he had just said.
Forehead to forehead, he framed her face in his hands, but this time, this time, she felt him smile. “Tell me again,” he whispered. “Tell me again how you don’t love me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. It was as simple as that. She loved him, had always loved him.
“Damn right you can’t.” His dimples flashed and he claimed her mouth.
As the earth moved under Bianca’s feet, she lost herself in the sensation of his tongue, the pressure of his fingers, and the warmth of being wrapped in his arms.
Giddiness bubbled up inside of her. If this was what it felt like to give herself completely to him, to submit herself entirely without reservation or regret, then she would gladly kneel to Cade Sinclair for the rest of her life.
About the Author
Rynne was born and raised in Edmonton Alberta Canada. Now living in Wetaskiwin Alberta, she’s grown fond of the slower pace lifestyle and has more time to focus on her one true love, writing romance. A few years ago she started to pursue a writing career seriously and has been plugging away ever since. When she’s not walking her headstrong cocker spaniel or in a tub full of bubbles devouring another steamy romance novel, she’s handcuffed to her key board. Always looking for new ways to fine tune her craft she is involved with LongRidge Writers Group and is a member with StoryCrafters. Both places are occupied by wonderful writers, many of which have a special place reserved in her heart.
Visit Rynne at www.rynneraines.com.
Also available
Welcome To Eden
by
Rynne Raines
Within the walls of Eden, temptation rules and anything goes…
Psychiatrist Caitlyn Ward never imagined setting foot inside the hottest fetish club in Los Angeles until the day a patient’s concerns about sexual desires went beyond her expertise. Now, determined to uncover the answers needed to alleviate her patient’s mind, Caitlyn ventures into a world of dark and forbidden pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.
Chapter O
ne
Caitlyn Ward swung one long stocking-clad leg over the other and fingered through her notes to where her patient had left off at the end of last week’s therapy session. A creature of habit, Caitlyn readjusted the thin wire-framed glasses on the bridge of her narrow nose, then took a sip of cool water from a black marble coffee cup. Across the room, Janet Pennington shifted along the curved brown leather sofa, twisting her diamond-embedded wristwatch back and forth.
“Anxious today?” Caitlyn asked.
The middle-aged woman’s mousy hazel eyes shot up from her watch and bulged. “Is it that obvious?”
Caitlyn gave her a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so. Is there something specific causing the anxiety, something you’d like to discuss rather than picking up where we left off last week?”
“I—I’m not sure. It’s kind of off topic from what we normally talk about.” Her voice cracked on the last word and resulted in Caitlyn’s further scrutiny.
When Janet had arrived six months ago, her mother held the focus of most their conversations. Apparently, the sixty-five year-old woman felt necessary to call her forty-five-year-old daughter fifteen times a day and rattle off a long list on the “proper way” to live her life. Yet today, it appeared something far worse than the dragon lady, as Janet referred to her mother, had her upset.
“You understand these are your sessions, we can discuss whatever you want. We aren’t limited in any way. If there’s something bothering you, it might help to talk about it.” She tried not to push too hard. When a person felt cornered it only made matters worse.
Janet’s light peach lips curved down at the corners. “Dr. Ward, I’m afraid I might be turning into some kind of freak.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because of my boyfriend,” she muttered. “You do remember me mentioning him, right?”
Caitlyn skimmed her notes. “Yes, of course, Henry. During our last session, you said you were blissfully happy in the relationship. Has something changed?”
“Yes, something has changed all right, something huge.” She let out a nervous laugh. “It has to do with our…sex life.” Her voice dropped to a whisper on the last words.
Caitlyn’s expression remained neutral. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to discuss intimacy issues in therapy, but as Janet fidgeted with the ivory pearl necklace dangling around her throat, she couldn’t begin to imagine what had the woman so wound up today.
“Okay, here it is, Doctor. The other night Henry and I were experimenting in bed. He had brought home this bag, you know, from the sex shop. Now, as you’re aware, I am a woman of the new millennium. I’m open-minded, despite what my mother says…anyways, I thought fine, I’ll give this a go. To tell you the truth, I was even kind of excited about it, so I let Henry tie me down to the bed with these straps. Then he began pulling out more stuff. Let me think…oh yes, some vibrators, a whip, a gag and….”
Caitlyn’s fine brows drew together. “Henry didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“Oh, no.” Janet quickly shook her head, then paused. “Well, sort of, but that’s the thing.” She lowered her eyes. “I think I liked it. No. I know I liked it. I loved it.”
When the breath locked in Caitlyn’s throat finally worked itself out, she set down her pen and notepad. “Janet, couples often experiment after being together for long periods of time. It’s not unheard of, and it does not make you a freak.”
In an act completely out of character for the conservative beauty, Janet leapt from the sofa. “You don’t understand. I…loved…it. I loved it when he spanked me, gagged me, and when he screwed me as if I had no choice in the matter. Oh lord, then he put the blindfold over my eyes and it was like having sex with a stranger. I nearly went out of my mind. Now lately, we’ve been going to these clubs—you know, fetish clubs? Frankly, it’s all I want to do.”
Well, this session had certainly taken an interesting turn from what they normally discussed. Caitlyn reached for her water again. Although she had attended a brief seminar on the introduction of dealing with sexual identity issues, she didn’t specialize in it.
“You’re a woman, Dr. Ward. Haven’t you ever experienced anything that drove you so completely wild you didn’t want to come back to the office for weeks?”
No, unfortunately she had not. In fact, she hadn’t been laid in a damn year, and sadly, she sure as hell had never experienced anything close to the ecstasy this woman described. Briefly, her mind drifted as her eyes scanned over her notes. Restraints. Vibrators. Whips. Blindfold. Gags. Unexpected warmth gathered between her thighs as she read. Although her vibrator had become her nightly best friend, she hadn’t found a man interested in dabbling with any of the other things.
“Doctor, what do you think could cause this? Am I sick? Do I have some subconscious desire to have sex with a stranger? Could it have to do with issues about my mother’s controlling nature?”
Janet pinned Caitlyn to the wingback chair with a wide stare, and for the first time since she had become a psychiatrist, she found herself the one confused. Honestly, she knew little about what triggered fetishes and even less about “the lifestyle”, as her colleagues referred to it. What did cause a person to enjoy being tied up? Lack of power, immobility, or a submissive nature? Deep down she had always wondered what it would be like to have a dominant partner—someone who took control, demanded surrender, and screwed her with the ruthless desperation of an animal. At that thought, she arched a brow and found herself uncrossing and re-crossing her legs to try to rid the heat there.
Janet’s foot started to tap against the Persian rug. Caitlyn forced herself from the fantasy and cleared her throat. “Well, if you want my honest opinion, I don’t think you’re sick at all.”
That didn’t seem to satisfy Janet. She simply gawked and waited for more of an explanation. Regrettably, Caitlyn didn’t have one, and it would hardly be professional of her to comment on something she knew so little about.
After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Janet said, “Forgive me, Doctor. I just thought you might be able to explain some of it to me. I’m sorry for mentioning it. You must think I’m horrible.”
Uneasiness crept into Caitlyn’s chest as tears formed in her patient’s eyes. She quickly leaned forward and shook her head. “Of course I don’t think you’re horrible.”
This wasn’t right. She was a damn professional and here she couldn’t even help her patient with a little information on sex. Suddenly, all those years of university didn’t seem so prestigious—not when a woman was experiencing this type of emotional turmoil and she could do nothing to help her. Caitlyn locked her jaw. It definitely didn’t seem appropriate to push past an issue that hadn’t been resolved, but then where did she go from here?
Janet started inching towards the exit. “Umm, I’m sorry, Doctor, but I completely forgot about an appointment I have to get to.”
“But we have twenty minutes left.”
As if not hearing her at all, Janet scurried out the door past reception and disappeared down the hall.
Smooth, Caitlyn, real smooth.
Frustrated, she slumped against the back of her chair and reached for the notepad again. While her fingers traced over the words, she couldn’t help but question her own sudden curiosity. Was her fascination caused by lack of answers for her patient, or could it be something more? The latter seemed more likely. Even shrinks got hot…very hot.
Her lips moved side to side as the thought became more intriguing. Perhaps she should do a little research on the subject—strictly for educational purposes, of course. Knowledge never hurt anyone. And who knew, one day Janet might return to her with the same questions. If she did, it would be nice to have some answers for her.
Caitlyn bit her bottom lip. Well, if she was serious about getting real answers, there was only one place she could think of that might have them. If nothing more, it would be an experience to remember.
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