Shut Your Eyes (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 3)

by Lee, Mandy

  But I’m still not happy. Bill knows some unsavoury types, and I can’t imagine them resisting the urge to use a fist.

  ‘I don’t see why Bill has to be involved.’

  ‘Foultons provide security,’ Gordon explains, nodding at the driver. ‘Intelligence, that sort of thing. But they don’t like to get their hands dirty. Bill’s contacts are more into enforcement … where necessary.’

  ‘And if they find Boyd, what then? Will they kill him?’

  He shrugs. ‘I have no idea.’

  The lights of a shop window dance past, catching Gordon’s face for a few seconds, but failing to lift the shadows.

  ‘I’ve told Dan I don’t want that.’

  ‘After everything Boyd’s done? By all accounts, the man’s an animal.’

  ‘We’re not sinking to his level.’

  He stares at me now, as if I’m mad, his eyes darkened to pitch, and suddenly it’s clear. Money can buy just about anything, apart from a decent, fully functioning moral compass. I look out of the window again, wondering if I can make my point some other way.

  ‘I don’t want to be an accessory to murder and I don’t want Dan in that position. I just want Boyd out of our lives, with no threats hanging over us … from anywhere.’

  He says nothing, and I take his silence as acquiescence.

  ‘I want you to contact Bill for me. I want you to make sure his people don’t do anything stupid. They’re just to scare Boyd off.’

  ‘But this is an opportunity to end to it … properly.’

  I’m too worn out to argue any more.

  ‘I’m not changing my mind,’ I inform him. ‘Just make sure Bill gets my message.’

  I crash land in yet another penthouse suite. Another plush hotel. This time I’m cocooned in Edwardian luxury: heavy curtains, silk walls, expensive mahogany furniture, well-stocked bookshelves, antiques, a grand piano. I’m guided into a drawing room, offered coffee by a footman, and decline. I’ve had enough of today. All I want is to put an end to it, to sleep it all away. I’m shown to my bedroom and with my bag delivered, Gordon checks on me once last time before I’m finally left alone.

  Immediately, I take myself to the en suite and sit on the toilet, gazing into space, wondering if I should try the pregnancy test. But there’s no point, not until I’m sure when my period’s due. Feeling utterly exhausted, I look up, focussing on an oil painting of Queen Victoria hanging on the opposite wall.

  ‘My life’s a mess,’ I tell her.

  ‘I know,’ she seems to answer with a disapproving glare. ‘And we are definitely not amused.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Maya.’

  Soft lips brush against mine. I already know it’s him. His scent is unmistakable. I open my eyes, finding his face right in front of me, those familiar blue irises so vibrant, I wonder if I’m dreaming.

  ‘You’re here?’ I ask, fuddled by sleep.

  ‘Yes, I’m here. And I love you.’

  I don’t have time to tell him I love him back. Before I know it, his lips secure around mine, kissing me slowly, tenderly, and I’m back in my sanctuary, our special place. I shut my eyes, soaking up the quiet intimacy. He’s back, and any vestige of tension dissipates immediately.

  ‘I don’t love this sheep though.’

  Ah, the sheep. I found it on my bed last night, all part of the strange quirkiness of the Royal Suite, I’m sure. I must have grabbed hold of it in my sleep, because now I’m clutching it tight.

  ‘I’m not into cuddly toys.’

  ‘Good.’ Gently, he prises it out of my hands and tosses it on the floor. ‘Nothing takes my place.’

  ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’ He gazes at me for an age before he speaks again, a boyish grin on his lips. ‘I tried a bath on my own. It was no fun.’

  I blink, rub my eyes and look to the window. The curtains have been drawn slightly, allowing morning sunlight to pour through the gap.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asks.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  I shuffle into a sitting position, blink some more, and take a moment to admire my fiancé. Dressed in an outfit that always has me salivating – jeans and a black T-shirt – he’s sitting by my side, a little tired, but as delectable as ever.

  ‘I just got here.’ He nods to his suitcase, dumped next to the door. Clearly, he’s come straight from the airport. ‘What happened with Boyd?’

  Okay, so we’re down to business. I focus back on his face, melted by the concern and love I find there.

  ‘You already know.’

  ‘And now I want to hear it from you.’

  Manoeuvring himself on the bed, he lies on his side and pulls me into his arms, holding me close while I tell him everything about the mysterious rose in Liberty and the disastrous trip to the corner shop.

  ‘He asked me if I enjoyed New York. I think he knows.’

  ‘He suspects. That’s all.’

  Something flits back into my head, a detail I need to sort out.

  ‘You’ve got one of his men.’

  He nods.

  ‘Don’t worry. We won’t stoop to Boyd’s level.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘You have my word.’ He holds my gaze, completely serious. ‘There are two ways of getting information out of low-life. One’s a good beating. The other’s a fistful of cash. Which one do you think we’re going for?’

  ‘The fistful of cash?’ I offer, hoping to God I’ve picked the right answer.

  ‘Bingo.’

  Snuggling closer into his embrace, I trace a finger across his shoulder.

  ‘We’ll find Boyd,’ he whispers.

  ‘And then what?’

  Despite of the closeness of our bodies, I can see the distance in his eyes.

  ‘I couldn’t live with that on my conscience, Dan,’ I tell him, determined to clear this up. ‘And neither could you. You’re not that type of man … not deep down.’

  His eyes flicker.

  ‘And what if …’

  ‘What if what?’ He frowns.

  ‘If you do have him … you know … what if you get caught? What if the police trace it all back to you? You’ll go to prison, and I can’t lose you, not again.’

  He nods.

  ‘I made a promise. I’ll stick to it.’

  ‘So, what will they do?’

  He stares into my eyes, evidently searching for the right words.

  ‘Maya,’ he says eventually, ‘a fistful of cash isn’t going to work with Boyd.’

  ‘So, it’s a good beating?’

  He nods.

  ‘Enough to scare him off … for good.’ His arms tighten around me. ‘There’s no other way. The man won’t listen to reasoning. Believe me, I never wanted to be in this situation, but now I am … I can’t see any other way out of it.’

  And I get it. He doesn’t have a choice. For once in my life, I’ll need to turn a blind eye, leaving morality to take a back seat; I know Boyd well enough to understand that. I give him a nod, deciding we’ve talked enough about Boyd. Our time together is precious.

  I pull him in for another perfect kiss.

  ‘Talking of trust ...’ he smiles against my mouth. ‘I once promised you more kink than you can shake a stick at.’ In an instant, the shadows are knocked right out of the room. With a playful glimmer in his eyes, he gets up, walks over to the suitcase and unzips it. ‘And just for the record, I’m more than willing to cater for my future wife’s every wish.’ He pauses, fixing his attention back on me. ‘Shut your eyes.’

  A delectable shiver of anticipation courses through me, and I do as I’m told.

  ‘What is it?’ I demand impatiently. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I’d rather show you. Look at me.’

  I open my eyes. He’s back at the side of the bed now, both arms behind his back. Slowly, he brings his right arm to the front, revealing a single length of rope. The other hand follows, and two more lengths along with it. Taking
a sharp breath, I stare at them.

  ‘I had these delivered to me at the airport … from a reliable source. A little present.’ He comes closer, offering the rope to me. ‘So, if you’re in the mood for it, you’re going to be a little tied up for a while.’

  I reach up and accept my gift. Dropping two of the lengths onto the bed, I examine the third, running it through my fingers, surprised at how smooth it feels, almost silky, totally pleasant to the touch.

  ‘Too much?’ he asks.

  ‘Probably not. I don’t know. I’ve never tried it. What do you do with it?’

  ‘Skipping.’ He laughs. ‘What do you think? Stand up.’

  Leaving the rope, I follow his order. Immediately, I’m pulled in close and turned. I’m standing in front of him now, my back to his chest.

  ‘I’m thinking of a simple crotch rope for a start with an added extra… just here.’

  He reaches round and touches my crotch, pressing a finger against my clit. Instantly, I’m on fire.

  ‘If you’re good to go, we’ll take it step by step.’

  I’m already breathing fast, my heart racing. He presses at my clit again, dispatching another rush of heat to my core.

  ‘I’m good to go.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  Shifting my hair to one side, he skims a finger down the back of my neck, and I shiver, wondering what on Earth I’m letting myself in for. The finger glides across my shoulders, from left to right and back again, leaving a warm imprint on my skin wherever it goes. And then those big hands close around my waist, holding me tight, drawing me back into his chest.

  ‘Trust,’ he breathes against my ear.

  He snuggles his head against my neck, draws the tip of his nose down to my shoulder, smelling me. And then, out of nowhere, he nips at my ear lobe, just hard enough to make me jolt. The thrill of the unexpected.

  ‘Turn around.’

  The hands are removed.

  I face him again, completely aroused by the sight of him, the love and longing overflowing in his eyes.

  ‘Legs apart,’ he says. ‘And no slouching, if you don’t mind.’

  Parting my legs, I wait while he returns to the bed, retrieves the first length of rope and comes back to me.

  ‘Hands up.’

  I comply, watching as he gets down to work.

  ‘You know, I’ve fantasised about this … right from the start.’

  ‘I bet you have.’

  I’m mesmerised by how deftly he moves. I always imagined rope play would be brutal, but this is something else. With the utmost gentleness and care, he wraps the doubled length around my waist, looping it at the front and coiling it around me a second time. Tucking his fingers under the waistband, he threads the end back through the loop and draws it downward.

  ‘And now for the happy knot.’ He gives me a roguish grin, twists the rope over on itself, checks the position, and creates a figure of eight. ‘That should do it.’

  Tightening the rope, he brings the knot right against my clit. It’s firm, yet soft, and I gasp at the contact.

  ‘You like it, then?’

  He threads the rope between my legs, then moves behind me and draws it up between my buttocks, attaching it at the rear. Before I know it, he’s in front of me again, slipping a finger under the rope and tugging at it lightly, over and over. The knot rubs against my clit, working me up into a super-sensitive, chaotic mess. I close my eyes and let out a good, long groan.

  ‘Oh God.’

  He tuts.

  ‘If you want to get kinkier, you’ll need to learn to control yourself.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  Releasing the rope, he takes my chin in his hand.

  ‘There’s no such word as can’t.’

  I’m about to tell him there is, but there’s a flash of something in his eyes, a promise, a delicious threat. And I’m left mute. He lets go of my chin, and collects a second length of rope.

  ‘Give me your hands.’

  Again, I follow orders. Immediately, he binds my wrists, attaching them to the top of the crotch rope and checking that the bindings aren’t too tight.

  ‘Where did you learn to tie a knot?’ I ask. ‘Scouts?’

  He laughs.

  ‘I never joined the Scouts. This is self-taught. Perfectly safe. Are you comfortable?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  He takes my hands, easing them upwards and forcing the knot back against my clit. I groan again.

  ‘Oh, we do like that, don’t we?’

  Already on the verge of coming, I just about manage to answer.

  ‘Yes. But how are you going to …’

  ‘Fuck you?’ he intervenes, raising my hands again. ‘That comes later.’ He lets go, releasing the pressure against my clit.

  Feeling dizzy, I struggle to steady my lungs.

  ‘Now,’ he goes on, completely business-like. ‘I like to take the standard crotch rope and add a little twist.’

  Without warning, he lifts me in his arms, carries me back to the bed and lays me on the sheets. I lie immobile with my hands on my stomach. But I can’t resist for long. Moving them toward my chin, I feel the knot tighten again. A spasm shoots through my groin.

  ‘Ah, ah. Naughty.’

  He waves a finger at me, taking a moment to admire his handiwork before he retrieves the final length of rope.

  ‘Where’s that going?’

  ‘You’ll find out.’

  He throws it onto the bed, pulls off his T-shirt and drops it to the floor. Ignoring the scar, I focus on the rest of his torso, marvelling at the power of his muscles, tingling with excitement at the dark look in his eyes.

  ‘It’s a little hot in here,’ he comments. ‘I need to get comfortable.’

  Resisting the urge to pull at the damn rope, I take in one deep breath after another as he sets about unfastening his jeans, easing them down and stepping out of them. Slowly, the underpants follow suit. Totally naked, he stands up straight, showing off his cock.

  ‘That’s better,’ he announces.

  Climbing back onto the bed, he lies next to me, drawing his fingers across my chest and circling my nipples, watching my face for every reaction. And he must like what he sees, because he’s smiling now.

  ‘So, your hands are here.’ He presses them against my stomach. ‘And here they’ll stay. If they stray further north, then this happens.’ Taking hold of my bound wrists, he moves them upwards, slightly. The knot rubs against my clit, causing another spike of pleasure. ‘And once I’ve got you worked up, Maya, that’s only going to get worse.’

  A warning, eh? So, he thinks I can’t take it. Well, in the unlikely event that I can’t, I’ve already worked out the escape route.

  ‘So, I’ll move my hands south.’

  ‘Not if I do this.’ He picks up the final length of rope and dangles it above my stomach, skimming it across my skin. ‘Now, this is where you really have to trust me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m going to tie it around your neck.’

  The world slams to a halt. Excuse me? Around my neck. Have I really just heard what I thought I heard?

  ‘You’re not strangling me.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He laughs. ‘I’m not into asphyxiation. I’m just limiting your choices. And if you don’t want to try it, we don’t go there.’

  He tips his head to one side, waiting for my answer. And I can’t help myself. After all, I crossed to the dark side a long time ago. I’m a kinky weirdo now, and there’s simply no turning back.

  ‘I want to try it.’

  He nods.

  ‘If you start to panic, tell me straight away. I’ll take it off.’

  Getting to his knees, he leans over me, encouraging my head up. Taking his time, making sure everything’s perfect, he wraps the rope around my neck, tying it beneath my chin with a knot I can’t see. Finally, he takes the other end, attaching it to a loop at my wrists. Evidently satisfied, he sits back on his haunches.r />
  ‘Now,’ he says. ‘How does that feel?’

  ‘Absolutely fine, thank you very much.’

  ‘Don’t try to get one over on me. It’s not a battle of wits. You’re in my hands. I want you to feel safe.’

  I gaze at him defiantly. ‘And I do.’

  ‘Good. Now, this is what happens if you go south.’

  He nudges my hands towards my crotch. The rope tightens around my throat, just a little. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but I can still breathe.

  ‘See what I mean?’ he asks, releasing the pressure.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘You don’t want to do that, do you?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘So, there’s only one way to go.’

  Up.

  ‘You’re a devious bastard.’

  ‘You’re too kind. Blindfold?’

  I shake my head. ‘I want to see you.’

  He leans down, sealing his lips around my right nipple, sucking lightly at first. A flurry of tingles flutter through my breast, travelling quickly down to my crotch. Automatically, my hands rise and the rope tightens, rubbing deliciously against my clit. I let off a moan. And, oh Lord, despite all my bluster, it’s completely obvious. There’s no way I’m going to get through this in one piece. Releasing my nipple, he gives me a mischievous smile before moving to my left breast. Latching on, he repeats the process. Again, my hands move involuntarily, tightening the rope and rubbing the knot against the bundle of nerves, sending me into a whirl of lust.

  ‘Oh God.’

  ‘Stay still.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Your problem.’

  I return my hands to my stomach, determined to leave them there for the time being. I won’t last long if I don’t. But then he runs his mouth between my breasts, licking here, skimming his lips across my skin there, setting light to a thousand sparks. And now I just want to touch him. Without thinking, I raise my hands again. The knot presses against me. Shimmers of electricity erupt from my clitoris, reverberate across the walls of my vagina, and threaten to cause an implosion.

  ‘Shit.’ I lower my hands, too far.

  The rope tightens around my neck. And that’s not the way to go. I move my hands back into neutral, just above my belly button, and at the same time, he adjusts his position, trailing the heat of his breath across my stomach, down to my hips. Moving further, he works at my thighs, licking, kissing, nibbling playfully at my flesh, occasionally catching a ticklish spot. I shift my hands to stop him. Immediately, the binding around my neck tightens. I shift them up again, sensing the knot against my clit.