Tempting Elizabeth

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Tempting Elizabeth Page 17

by Becca Jameson


  He reached out a hand and set it on her knee, needing contact with her.

  She met his gaze. “Plus, I started to realize how ridiculous it is for me to keep up the appearance of being a bad-ass Domme.” She gave him a small smile.

  “E… There’s nothing wrong with you wanting to keep what we have separate and private. I will always respect that. No one needs to know what we do when we’re alone. We negotiated what we were willing to tolerate from the other, and that’s all I needed. I would never out you. But, you’re right. I won’t stand by while some fucking asshole harasses you. I wouldn’t let a total stranger take that kind of shit either.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I know, but my need to keep our relationship private is irrational. Why should I care if anyone knows I submit to you? I shouldn’t. And I promise I will let go of that. Just give me some time.”

  “Take all the time you need, but if you want me to dominate you at the club, it needs to be for you, not me. I don’t have a problem with keeping our relationship private. Don’t change yourself for me. If it makes you uncomfortable, then we won’t rock that boat.”

  She nodded. “I hear ya, but I think it’s something I need to face. Like a fear. I need to stare it in the eye and conquer it. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes. It does.” He stood, leaned over her, set his hand on the other side of the tub, and then kissed her lips, being careful not to hurt her. “Right now, I need to get you dried off and in my bed. I need to hold your body all night.”

  “It’s almost morning,” she pointed out.

  “Well, thank God it’s Sunday. We’ll sleep late.”

  “Sounds good.” Her expression was sincere. He had high hopes that she wouldn’t balk at sleeping in his arms. Apparently, he was getting his wish.

  He helped her out of the tub, dried her off, and tugged one of his T-shirts over her head. It hung to her thighs, and he loved seeing her in it. “Come on,” he murmured before leading her to his bed.

  She climbed in with him and let him pull her back against his chest, but he knew she wasn’t fully relaxed.

  “Talk to me,” he whispered against her ear as he wrapped his hand around one of hers against her chest. It was very late, and they were both exhausted, but he knew she had more to say.

  “I haven’t slept with a man in forever.”

  “I figured that was the case.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

  “Sometimes I have nightmares.” She blew out a breath and continued, though her voice was barely audible. “About what happened to me.”

  He held her tighter. “I’ll be right here if you do.” God, she felt good in his arms. Fucking perfect. Maybe she was embarrassed about having a bad dream, but it wasn’t going to stop him from keeping her close.

  She let out a long breath and relaxed in his arms. “You make everything seem far simpler than it sounds in my head,” she murmured.

  “It’s not that difficult, E. It doesn’t have to be. We’re just two people who like each other sleeping together. We both have baggage. We’ll work through it as we go along.”

  She turned her head to meet his gaze in the dim light. “I have a fuckton of baggage. It’s nothing like yours.”

  He cupped her face and kissed her lips again as gently as possible to avoid hurting her. “And you’re going to dump it on me whenever you’re ready, and we’re going to work through it.”

  She sighed and settled back against him. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Of course you do. We all deserve to find something that makes us feel good and hold on to it.”

  “Mmm.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  “E…”

  “I think I’d like to tell you what happened. Now.”

  He stroked her hair away from her temple, unable to avoid the fact that he was nervous. He would do anything for her, but he knew this would be huge. “Okay, baby. If you’re ready.”

  There was a long silence before she finally spoke again in a soft voice. “I joined my first club when I was thirty with a friend of mine. It never occurred to me that some women were Dommes at the time. I just thought women were subs and men were Doms.”

  He continued to run his fingers through her hair, not interrupting her, trying so hard to brace himself for whatever she might say.

  “For the first few weeks, I watched, and then I started submitting. I wanted to try it. My girlfriend seemed so relaxed after she did it. I was lucky at first. Three different men dominated me expertly. I can’t say it was sexual because I didn’t know them that well and I wasn’t necessarily attracted to them. But I did enjoy the release I got from impact play.”

  He kissed her temple.

  “Then I met Master Phil.” Her voice was weaker now, and she said that name like it was vile on her tongue.

  Flynn swallowed, trying so hard to remain calm, reminding himself he needed to be strong for her. If he reacted violently to whatever she said, it would only make things worse.

  “He seemed so nice. He kind of flirted with me. And for the first time I thought maybe I might experience something sexual. I didn’t know him. I shouldn’t have let him secure a private room. Dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”

  Flynn held his breath. Already he wanted to kill this Phil guy.

  “The club wasn’t as secure as others I’ve been to since. They didn’t have strict policies or vet their members well. I didn’t know better. I should have, but I didn’t.” She took a deep breath. “I let Phil take me to a private room because I thought he was going to touch me intimately. I wasn’t ready to do that in public, so it seemed logical.”

  Flynn nodded against her, and when she didn’t continue for a while, he whispered, “Go on, E. I’ve got you.”

  She drew in a breath. “It all happened so fast. He locked the door, stripped me of my clothes, and stuffed my panties in my mouth. Before I knew it, I was bound, hands and feet, and he was standing over me with a whip.”

  Flynn winced. Fuck. He’d known more or less what she might say since these were all the things she couldn’t tolerate now, years later. But it still hurt his heart to hear her confirm it. It made sense why she’d been skittish about learning to use a crop now. The similarities might have triggered her. He wished he had known this before he cropped her. Then again, she would have been furious if he’d treated her with kid gloves.

  He knew this story was going to get more horrifying as she continued, clearing her throat. “I didn’t have a safeword, and I couldn’t have anyway. I was gagged. I tried to spit out my panties, but they wouldn’t budge. I could do nothing but lie on the floor on my side and curl into a ball while he told me I was a bad girl who needed a lesson. It stood out to me because until we moved to the private room, he’d told me repeatedly what a good girl I was. He’d made me feel special, but the man who circled me with that whip was a different person.”

  “E…” He couldn’t stop himself from trying to soothe her. His heart raced. Anger welled up to mix with everything that had happened tonight too. How had nearly the same thing happened to her twice?

  Elizabeth’s voice was choked as she continued. “He whipped me over and over. My back and thighs mostly, but he didn’t care if he hit my arms or my chest. It hurt. The welts were raised for days. A few of them bled.” She didn’t cry, but she stopped talking. She seemed…numb. Exhausted from holding this in for so many years.

  After a long silence, Flynn spoke. “Tell me what happened next, E.”

  She sucked in another deep breath. “It was so simple really. When he was done, he untied me, pulled my panties from my mouth, and told me I was a good girl. He even smiled. I was crying silently. I couldn’t even scream because I was too shocked and in pain. And embarrassed. I didn’t want anyone to know what had happened to me. The asshole actually helped me dress and then patted my head and told me again I was such a good girl. When he was done, I rushed from the club and never returned. I never told anyone what happened that night.”

  “Oh, ba
by.” Overwhelming sadness filled Flynn’s chest, bringing him close to tears. “You must have been so lonely.”

  “I was, but I was more embarrassed than anything else. I made so many poor choices.”

  “E, you know none of that was your fault, right?”

  She breathed shallowly.

  Flynn rose up onto his elbow and turned her face toward him with a finger to her chin. He met her gaze in the dim light of the bedroom. “Baby… You did nothing wrong. That was all on him.”

  A tear slid down her cheek, and she reached up to swipe it away. “I never should have let him take me to a private room. I didn’t know him. It was stupid. I’ve spent years going over it in my head, trying to figure out another outcome.” She hiccupped.

  Flynn cupped her face, frowning, desperate to exonerate her of this entire situation. “No matter what you did or didn’t do, no one has the right to abuse another person. Ever. That’s like blaming women for their own rape because of their skirt length.”

  She nodded rapidly. “I know. Intellectually, I know, but I still wonder what if.”

  He kissed her forehead, lingering for a long time. “E.” He waited for her to meet his gaze again. “He’ll never hurt you again. And I’m so sorry someone else hurt you tonight. It breaks my heart that you’ve been through such a similar situation twice. I swear I’ll do everything in my power to ensure it never happens again.”

  The pain he felt for her was so fierce. He wasn’t even going to bother to lay his own blame for tonight on her again. She didn’t need that right now. She needed someone to care enough to see her through this. He could be that man. He had to. Because there were no other choices. She was his. He wouldn’t burden her with that knowledge right now either, but he would do everything in his power to ensure she knew that every day from now on.

  She closed her eyes and snuggled into him. It took forever for her breathing to even out, but eventually it did.

  He listened to her breathing for a long time, not daring to let himself succumb until he was certain she was relaxed.

  Chapter 27

  Elizabeth woke up to the sound of Flynn’s voice. He wasn’t in the room, but she could hear him just enough to know he was in the house. She stretched out and stared at the ceiling. The light spilling in around the edge of the blinds indicated it was after noon. She had slept harder than she could remember in recent memory. With a man. In his bed. In his home.

  It felt good. She hadn’t had a nightmare either. She didn’t recall dreaming at all considering everything that had happened to her last night.

  She slid from the bed, used his bathroom, and then rearranged the messy bun on her head before going in search of him.

  He was in the kitchen, his back to her, facing the sink. He didn’t have on a shirt, and the expanse of his back took her breath away. He seemed to be staring out the kitchen window, one hand on the counter, one on the phone. “Mom, calm down. It’ll be fine… Yes, I know that… Yes, I’ll handle it… I can’t make that kind of promise, Mom… Because it’s too soon…” He sighed heavily and turned around, smiling when he spotted her across the room.

  She felt bad about listening in on his conversation. Not that she’d gleaned anything, but enough that she was worried his mom was unhappy with something she was doing.

  Flynn didn’t look concerned about her arrival or what she might overhear. He leaned against the counter and waved her over.

  She came to him, like a magnet, wanting to be in his arms again. Needing his touch while at the same time hoping she could ease his frustration.

  “Mom, I gotta go. I’ll call you later,” he said as he pulled Elizabeth into his embrace. “Yes. Okay. Bye.” He set the phone down on the counter, kissed the top of her head, and blew out a frustrated breath. “Sorry about that. My family drives me crazy some days.”

  She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “Your family is amazing. You’re so lucky to have them.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t feel like it most of the time. Try getting five adult children to agree on anything. And don’t even get me started about my mom. She nags every one of us until she gets what she wants.”

  Elizabeth stiffened, pulling back a few inches. “I’d give anything to have a mom like yours or even one sibling.”

  He winced. “Sorry. I’ve never asked you about your family.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “More heavy shit for first thing this morning. I went to sleep laying all the heavy shit on you. Surely you don’t want more piled on now.”

  His brow drew together. “I want everything. Give it to me.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I don’t have any family. None worth speaking of. I was an only child. My parents fought all the time. And neither of them showed me much affection.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  “I didn’t know any different. Not when I was a kid. I assumed all parents acted like them. My mother stayed home to raise me, and my father bitched about everything she did and didn’t do every night when he got home. When I got older, I realized in retrospect that she was probably so unhappy that she didn’t even have the energy to be a good mom.”

  He cringed again. “E, I’m so sorry.” He ran a hand up and down her back. “Where are they now?”

  “My mother died ten years ago. My father is still living where I grew up in Chicago. I only speak to him sparingly. He’s even more angry with the world now than he was then, probably because on top of everything else, he doesn’t have my mom to gripe to or someone to make his meals and wash his clothes.”

  “You don’t see him?”

  “Nope. And before you judge me, I had years of therapy in my early twenties in which I learned that sometimes it’s best to break things off entirely. Nothing about my relationship with my parents was healthy, and it’s still not today. If my father had his way, I would never have gone to college. I would still be living with him, and I’d be taking care of him, waiting on him hand and foot to fill my mother’s absence.”

  “Shit.”

  She nodded. At least he was getting it. He didn’t argue. “Yeah. If you think I’m kidding, feel free to listen in next time I call him. I try to build up the nerve to do so on his birthday at least. It takes me a few days to work up to it. He’ll complain from the moment he answers until I cut him off and hang up. I give him three minutes. That’s my limit. I wish him happy birthday and then tune him out while he tries to verbally abuse me, browbeating me into feeling guilty and coming home to take care of him.”

  “Okay, you’re right. I should probably appreciate my family more.” He gave her a quick squeeze. “They annoy me to death some days, but I guess I’m lucky to have them all. Even my dad was a great man. I miss him every day.”

  She stared at him a moment, wondering if she should say something about his conversation. “Is your mom unhappy with what I’m doing with the event?”

  He jerked back, his brows furrowing. “No. Not at all. She loves your plans. She loves you. And I wasn’t kidding about my family. They have planned out our entire lives. Or at least they think they have.”

  She chuckled. “I love that they care so much.”

  He lifted a brow. “You want my sister Paula to pick out rings for us after we’ve been dating a week? Did you want the bridesmaid’s dresses to be black because Shelly thinks a black-tie wedding at night will look best with your hair?”

  She laughed harder now and patted his chest. “Come on. You’re exaggerating.” The craziest part was that she should be running from the house, freaking out. This conversation was way too advanced for two people who’d started dating a week ago and still had a pile of her baggage to work through.

  Oddly, she felt warm and kind of squishy inside instead of alarmed. If Flynn could so flippantly discuss his family’s plans for them, why should she get stressed? Just to be sure he was on the same page as her though, she schooled her face and narrowed her gaze. “You realize none of that is g
oing to happen, right?”

  He cocked his head to one side and spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I realize my family isn’t going to railroad me into anything, nor are they going to plan the details of my life. But if you’re ruling out ever getting married to someone, we should talk.”

  She flinched. “You want to talk about marriage? That’s insane. We’ve been dating for like a week.”

  “It seems much longer,” he pointed out.

  “Fine. It does, but we aren’t anywhere close to discussing marriage.”

  “Agreed. I didn’t say we were. I simply wanted to make sure you didn’t have an aversion to the institution as a whole.”

  She swallowed, trying to internalize what he was saying. Was she opposed to marriage? She’d never considered that it would happen for her. Her childhood had turned her off marriage pretty firmly. No one was ever going to control her life like her father did her mother’s. No one was ever going to have the power to speak to her that way or manipulate her or boss her around. Never.

  “I can see your mind working, E.”

  “Yeah. Like I said, I didn’t have good role models.”

  “Well, I’m not your dad. Most men aren’t your dad.”

  “My experience has suggested otherwise,” she pointed out, wincing as she did so. Did she really want to dig up her past again this morning?

  He held his breath for long seconds, finally blowing it out and nodding behind her. “Sit. I made breakfast. Let me pull it out of the oven and feed you. We can’t have a serious discussion on an empty stomach.”

  At the mention of food, her stomach rumbled.

  He chuckled, spun her around, and pointed at the table. “Coffee?”

  “Do you have orange juice?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll start with that.” As she took her seat, she watched him pull the most amazing-smelling pan from the oven. The kitchen filled with the aroma of cheese and eggs and vegetables. She groaned. “You cook?”

  He laughed again as he set the pan on the table. Quiche. She’d died and gone to heaven. “I own a restaurant, E. Before that my father owned it my entire life. I could cook better than most humans by the time I was five.”

 

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