Follow Me Always

by HELEN HARDT

  Braden did some reading up, and finally consented to go further.

  They began with more elaborate bondage. Eventually he added some sensory deprivation and experimented with hot and cold.

  It was Addison who brought up erotic asphyxiation.

  …

  “So that’s why it’s your hard limit,” I say.

  “Because she brought it up? No.”

  “Then why?”

  “For God’s sake, Skye. Be patient.”

  I sigh and nod. Patience will be the death of me.

  “I did some research. I thought I could handle it.”

  “And you couldn’t?”

  “I’ve told you before. We were both inexperienced. Totally in over our heads.”

  …

  After a lot of research, Braden was ready to bind Addie’s neck and try some minimal choking. The scene started with getting them both worked up through a series of flogging and breast play and then going to oral. When Addie was good and turned on, Braden tied a loop around her neck, kind of like a doggie choke collar.

  He gave it a yank right when the orgasm was imminent, and Addie came.

  “That was incredible!” she exclaimed when it was over.

  Braden admitted it was amazing to watch. Amazing to exert that amount of control over another person’s pleasure.

  He thought he’d found his calling. He was good at this. Good at taking control. At dominating. Perhaps he was a Dominant after all, though he disliked labels.

  They practiced neck binding and breath control several more times, each time Braden taking more and more of her air to induce erotic asphyxiation.

  Until the last time—

  …

  Braden stops talking mid-sentence.

  “You can’t stop now. I just got used to the image in my mind of you going down on her. This isn’t fair.”

  “This isn’t easy for me to talk about,” he says.

  “You’ve come this far.”

  He nods and continues.

  …

  Braden was hard, so hard, and he had Addie going. Her eyes were closed, and he’d teased her with a few small yanks.

  “You want more?” he asked.

  “Yes. Please, sir.”

  Another soft yank.

  “More?”

  “Yes, sir. Please.” Her voice was breathy, airy.

  He circled her clit with his fingers while, with his other hand, he pulled on the restraint around her neck. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me to choke you. Hard.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “I want you to choke me hard. Harder, please, sir.”

  He gave the rope one last yank as he thrust his cock into her. It didn’t take long for him to come, and when he withdrew…

  She was limp. Addie had gone limp.

  “Addie?”

  No response.

  He moved her onto her back. Her eyes were closed, her neck still bound. Quickly he removed the rope. “Addie! Wake up!”

  He placed his fingers at her neck. Thank God. Her pulse was light, but it was there.

  What the hell had he done?

  911. Call 911. And tell them what? That he’d choked a woman in his bed? Not the best idea.

  He patted her cheek. Soft at first, and then harder. “Come on! Wake up, Addie! Come on!”

  Time passed in a trance. Minutes ticked by like hours. After five minutes had passed, he grabbed his phone. Yeah, he’d probably go to prison, but he couldn’t let her die.

  He was ready to push in the numbers, when—

  “Sir?”

  Addie’s voice. Soft and raspy, but still her voice. He heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God!” He touched her cheek. “Are you okay? Can you breathe?”

  “Yeah.” She sucked in a breath and then let it out in a squeaky wheeze. “What happened?”

  “You lost consciousness for a few minutes. Fuck. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was still a mess. “It was amazing, sir. Amazing.”

  “Amazing? You pass out and call it amazing?”

  “Isn’t that the point?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Addie, you could have died!”

  “No, that’s the point. Lose consciousness and the orgasm. God, sir, the orgasm…”

  “I don’t give a shit if it was the most amazing orgasm in the world and you flew to fucking Jupiter. We’re never doing that again.”

  “But sir, I want—”

  Braden’s relief morphed into anger. “You’re forgetting something. This has never been about what you want. It’s about what I want. And I say we’re done with this.”

  “Sir, if you only knew how it felt.”

  “I think I just said I don’t care. I’m taking you to the ER to get you checked out.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your voice doesn’t sound right.”

  “So I’m slightly hoarse. It’ll heal.”

  “We’re going to the ER.”

  Braden stood over her as she got dressed and then they drove to the nearest emergency room. Braden was honest with the doctor and told him exactly what happened.

  “You’re a lucky woman,” the doctor said to Addie. “I recommend you never engage in this behavior again.”

  Afterward, Braden drove Addie home in his truck. “I think we need some time apart,” he said to her.

  “Time apart? Why, sir?”

  “Because I’m not comfortable with what happened. I need to think about what we’ve been doing. Think about whether I want to be a part of it anymore.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Do I need to remind you again? This has never been about what you want.”

  “Will you call me?” she asked.

  “No,” he said adamantly. “I won’t.”

  A week went by, and then another.

  Braden was relieved that she was out of his life. He’d discovered a lot that he liked in the bedroom, and one thing that he hated. Something he’d never do again, no matter what. No matter how careful you were with breath control, there was always a risk.

  Braden was a risk taker. He always had been.

  But he was not willing to risk a person’s life.

  He was relieved the relationship—if you could call it that—was over.

  Turned out it wasn’t.

  The stalking began again.

  Addie waited by his truck after work, this time wearing a black jumpsuit and a choker made of braided black velvet.

  “Please, sir,” she begged. “I need it. I need you.”

  “I’ve told you it’s over,” he said. “This isn’t about what you want.”

  “You miss me. You must. We were so in sync.”

  “We were in over our heads.”

  “But we’ve learned. We can do better.”

  “No,” he said flatly. “It’s over.”

  When the stalking didn’t stop, he finally had no choice. He called the police.

  …

  “So you didn’t dump her because she wouldn’t get kinky.”

  “Of course I didn’t. I was frightened, Skye. Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I would be. I can’t believe she wanted to try it again.”

  “Apparently the climax was that good,” he says.

  “More likely she just didn’t want to let you go. Did you consider getting back with her and just doing the other stuff?”

  “Yeah, I considered it. But after she continued stalking me, I realized I wasn’t dealing with a rational person. She was so used to getting what she wanted that she couldn’t handle not having me. That wasn’t a person I wanted any long-term involvement with.”

  “So you were never in love with her?”

  “How can you ask me tha
t?”

  “It’s a valid question.”

  “Valid, yes, but unnecessary. You already know the answer. I’ve told you I never loved a woman until you, Skye.”

  Chapter Fifty

  My body warms all over and my heart nearly melts from the heat of his words.

  Braden is a man who says so much by saying nothing. It’s easy to forget that, but I promise myself that from now on I’ll remember.

  He never loved Addie.

  “Was she in love with you?”

  “She thought she was.”

  “She said that?”

  “A couple of times, while she was stalking me after the incident. Contrary to popular belief, I do have feelings. I just don’t wear them on my sleeve. I felt bad for her, but I wasn’t in love with her. Besides, what she wanted to do was dangerous. It was easier for me to just nip it in the bud.”

  “Lesser men might have stayed with her for the money.”

  “Lesser men might have. I won’t say it didn’t occur to me, but if I was ever going to be rich, I wanted it to be on my own terms.”

  “And it is.”

  “It is,” he echoes, though he doesn’t sound completely convinced.

  “Braden?”

  He sighs. “The story’s not over, Skye.”

  I swallow. “All right. Go on.”

  …

  The day after Braden called the police, he got a visit from Addison’s father, Brock Ames. Instead of Addie waiting by his pickup after work, Brock stood there, dressed to the nines in a tailored gray pinstripe and smoking a pipe. Braden inhaled the cherry bark fragrance. Nice, but smoking wasn’t something he’d ever do.

  “Mr. Black.” Brock emptied the ashes from his pipe onto the ground and held out his hand. “I’m Brock Ames.”

  “I know who you are,” Braden said.

  “Then I suppose you know why I’m here.”

  “Can’t say I do.”

  “I’d like you to drop the charges against my daughter.”

  “Mr. Ames, your daughter has been stalking me. She shows up here by my truck after work, not unlike you did today. She shows up at my home. She calls me at all hours of the day and night. It needs to stop.”

  “I don’t think formal charges are the answer.”

  “Really? What is the answer, then?”

  “Drop the charges, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “What are you going to do? Ship her off to Europe or something? She’s eighteen. She’s an adult.”

  “In the eyes of the law, yes, but she’s still a very young girl.”

  Braden met Brock’s gaze. How did one tell a father what his daughter was capable of? “Don’t try to tell me she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  “What if I told you”—Brock cleared his throat—“that I’d have you arrested for sexual assault.”

  “I’d tell you to fuck off.” Braden hadn’t assaulted Addie. Everything was consensual. Despite his words, though, his nerves skittered. Brock Ames was a powerful man.

  “Addie will testify that you assaulted her, and she lost consciousness,” Brock continued.

  Braden’s fingers curled into fists. “That never happened.”

  “Do you think that matters?”

  Chills swept over the back of Braden’s neck. “You fucking bastard…”

  “Easy, Mr. Black. I can see you’re an intelligent man.”

  “We went to the ER. She corroborated what I told the doctor.”

  “And she can easily say you coerced her into her corroboration.”

  “So you’re saying you’ll blackmail me if I don’t drop the stalking charges? Is that what this is about?”

  “Blackmail is such a negative term,” he said, grinding his pipe ashes into the blacktop with his Italian leather−clad foot. “I prefer to think of this as two people making a deal.”

  “A deal where you have all the leverage,” Braden said through clenched teeth.

  “You may find it interesting to know that Addie thinks she’s in love with you. She doesn’t want to make any assault claims.”

  “Then why are we having this conversation?”

  “Because she will make the claim…if I threaten to cut her off.”

  Money. Rage gripped Braden. It all came down to money. If he ever had money in his life, he would never use it to control others.

  Fucking never.

  “So we’re back to blackmail, then,” Braden said.

  “Not necessarily. We’re back to the drawing board where we’ll make our deal.”

  …

  “How did you not punch his lights out?” I ask.

  “Trust me. It was difficult,” he says, “but that would have only made things worse.”

  “I never found any record of any charges against you or against Addie.”

  “When you were nosing around,” he says.

  “Well…yeah. You know I was curious. But I haven’t looked recently, Braden. Believe me. I made a decision to respect your right to tell me in your own time.”

  “I know.” He smiles.

  God, how I love that smile. He seems to smile more lately, now that the understanding between us has increased.

  “So what ultimately happened?”

  “We struck a deal,” he says. “A deal that changed my life.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Have you ever seen The Godfather?” Brock asked.

  Braden shook his head. They never had cable TV growing up, and now he didn’t have time to watch TV or stream movies. He was either working or sleeping.

  “Too bad,” Brock said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

  Braden didn’t respond. He simply lifted his eyebrows, waiting.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Brock said. “You’re going to drop the charges against my daughter and agree to never speak about what happened between the two of you again.”

  “And she’ll stop stalking me?”

  “She’ll attempt to stop.”

  Braden shook his head. “No deal.”

  “I know my daughter. She’s just throwing a tantrum. She’s not getting what she wants. It’s her way.”

  “Her way? I’m supposed to put up with her little fits?”

  Brock cleared his throat. “In return, I’ll finance your move to another place. She won’t be able to find you.”

  “I have to leave Boston?”

  “Yeah. But you can find work in construction anywhere.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to leave Boston. My father and brother are here.”

  “So? I’ve done some research, Mr. Black. There’s no love lost between you and your father. And your mother… Well, she’s no longer an issue, is she?”

  Rage, again. Reddish-purple rage. How dare this motherfucker speak about his family? About his mother?

  Braden kept his mouth glued shut, though, as difficult as it was. No way was he going to let his temper dictate what happened next. No fucking way.

  “I’m not moving,” Braden finally said.

  “That’s your prerogative. But Addie knows where to find you. The stalking, as you like to call it, may continue.”

  “As I like to call it? What the fuck do you call it?”

  “I call it simply an attempt to keep in touch.”

  Braden clenched his hands into fists once more. “I can’t believe this. I don’t want to move. I won’t move.” He was adamant. Boston was his home. He didn’t want to live anywhere else.

  “So you’re rejecting my offer?”

  “I’m rejecting your first offer. I’d like to make a counteroffer.”

  “I’m not entertaining any counteroffers, Mr. Black
. This is my one and only offer.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Addie will go to the police and allege assault.”

  Braden’s skin tightened around him, his heart thundering. “You won’t get away with this. The truth is on my side.”

  “Maybe so, but are you willing to take that chance? I’ll have the best lawyers advising the prosecution, and you’ll go down for a crime you didn’t commit.”

  Fuck. Brock knew Braden hadn’t assaulted Addie. He fucking knew. If only he had a tape recorder on him. A wire. Then he could prove that Brock had just admitted Braden hadn’t committed any crime. He opened his mouth to call Brock out on his lie—

  Then something hit him like a lightning bolt.

  Money.

  This all came down to money. Brock had it. Braden didn’t.

  “How much will that cost you?” Braden asked.

  “What?”

  “Those greedy lawyers who will advise the prosecution. Don’t forget the judge. You may have to buy him off. How much will it ultimately cost you to bring me down?”

  “Money doesn’t matter.”

  “Not to you. So how much?”

  Brock narrowed his eyes. “Six figures. Possibly seven.”

  “Here’s your counteroffer,” Braden said, “and you’d do well to entertain it. Keep your little darling out of the spotlight and your money out of lawyers’ hands. Give it to me instead. I’ll drop the charges, and you guarantee me that this is over. Fucking over.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning your daughter will never make false allegations against me. I want it in writing, signed by both you and her. I’ll sign as well that I’ll never talk about the incident that put her in the emergency room. I’ll never talk to her again, if that’s what it takes.”

  “Addie won’t agree to that.”

  “Make her agree.”

  “As you said before, Mr. Black. She’s an adult. She thinks she loves you.”

  “A million. That’s what it would cost you to ruin my life. Give it to me instead, and I’ll sign whatever you want.”

  Brock narrowed his gaze. He was considering it.

  Good.

  “A quarter million,” he finally said. “And you never call the police on Addie again.”

  “No deal.”

  “Half a million.”