Pain shot through my breasts, but that pain translated almost immediately to delight. And in that gap—that tiny gap between the two—the world exploded around me and I came more violently than I’d ever come before. I was desperate. Wild. My sex clenched around Cole’s cock, bringing him right along with me to the hardest, fastest, hottest orgasm I had ever experienced. One that left me breathless and exhausted and completely astounded.
“Wow,” I said when the world returned to me. “That was—that just was.”
He chuckled. “Yes. It certainly was,” he said, and then kissed me, hard and deep. The kind of kiss that marked a woman in a way that even wild sex couldn’t manage.
He pulled me close to him and held me tight. I was still bound, and that made me feel more small and fragile. As if he were holding me safe, keeping me shielded from whatever awful things might lurk in the world.
I floated there a moment on a wave of contentment, but his words kept playing back in my head. “More, you said,” I murmured. “Will you tell me what the more is?”
“Eager?” he said, with a tease in his voice.
“Maybe.”
“I won’t tell you, but I’ll show you. Not all at once, but when you’re ready. Trust me, Kat. Trust me to make this journey exceptional for you.”
“I do.” I hesitated, then asked, “Will you take me to the Firehouse when we get back to Chicago?”
It may have been my imagination, but I thought that he stiffened slightly. “Maybe,” he said. “I haven’t decided.”
“Oh.”
I’m not sure why his response disappointed me, but it did. “Is it because of Michelle? Why you’re not sure, I mean?”
He eased back, then rolled me over so that I was facing him. “No,” he said. “Not because of Michelle.”
I nodded, knowing I should drop it. I could tell that much just from the tone of his voice. But somehow, I couldn’t quite seem to back away. “Were you two together?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I licked my lips. “I saw you the night of the gala. That argument with Conrad. I don’t know. I just thought . . .” I trailed off into a lame shrug.
“Conrad Pierce is a fucking asshole,” Cole said. “He was trying to recruit some of my girls into prostitution. I made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.”
I recalled Cole’s fury that night, and decided that it was perfectly understandable. “Was he trying to recruit Michelle, too?”
Cole exhaled. “No,” he said. And then a moment later, he added, “Christ, Kat. She works in that trade, okay?”
“Oh. Right.” I hesitated a moment, then pressed on. “Do you pay her? To fuck her, I mean.”
I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, as if he was trying hard to keep a grip on control. “Can we quit with the twenty questions?”
“I’m sorry.” I rolled away, suddenly chilled by the gulf I felt growing between us. “Really. Never mind.”
“Shit.” I heard him exhale, then felt the press of his hand against my shoulder. “Shit,” he repeated, this time more softly. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He drew in a breath, and the irony of the situation—me naked and bound with a plug in my rear while we discussed another woman—really wasn’t lost on me. “I don’t want to have secrets from you.” He eased me over so that I was facing him again, and the intensity I saw in his face nearly did me in.
“But I do have secrets,” he continued. “I won’t lie to you. But I want to start chipping away at them. So let me start by saying that I don’t pay Michelle, but I do fuck her. Or I did. I haven’t touched her since you. Haven’t wanted to. Haven’t needed to.”
He looked at me, and I felt that sweet ping in my heart. “Really?” The word tasted like hope. More, it tasted like love.
“I told you, Kat. You fill me up. It may take some time for me to figure out what that means, how it manifests. But I know that it’s true. Can you be patient, baby? Can you let me find the words my own way, in my own time?”
“I can,” I said, because at the heart of it the past didn’t matter. The Cole I’d fallen for was the one I saw in front of me. All the rest was just backstory and gossip. And all of that could wait.
twenty
“Cole?”
“Mmm.” He sounded far away and yet right beside me.
“Before you fall asleep, do you think you could untie me and, you know, all the rest?”
I heard the low rumble of his chuckle. “I don’t know. It’s tempting to just keep you like this, bound for my pleasure, mine to take whenever I want.”
“I already am,” I said. “You don’t need the ropes for that.”
I saw the emotion in his eyes in response to my words. And when he removed the plug and gently untied me, I thought that I’d never known anything more erotic than the simple experience of being tended to by this man.
Once I was unbound, we lay atop the covers, legs twined so that we were facing each other. I traced my fingertips over his chest, enjoying the way his skin felt against mine. “Thank you,” I finally said. “For showing me this. For showing me that I like it, too.”
“Oh, baby.” He brushed my cheek, and though there was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice, I couldn’t help but see the storm clouds in his eyes.
“What did I say?”
He sat up, leaning over in the bed as he took two long, deep breaths. “I’m glad you like it. There’s nothing I want more in this world than to give you pleasure.”
He stood up, then turned back so that he was facing the bed. I was sitting up now, wary because of the measured tone of his words. I wanted to beg him to explain what the trouble was, but I also knew that he would. He just needed to take his time, and I just needed to be patient.
“It’s not a question of like for me. It’s a need. A requirement. Hell, it’s my goddamn sustenance.” His eyes were locked on my face, and I don’t know what he saw there. Understanding? Maybe a little. Mostly, I wanted to simply hug him, because no matter what I did or didn’t understand, I knew that he was hurting. And all I wanted—all I would ever want again—was to see this man happy.
“I want to help,” I told him simply. “I want to understand.”
“I know,” he said. “I want that, too. I told you I didn’t want secrets, and I meant it. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t. I think the hardest thing I’ve ever done was tell you about Roger.”
“You’re stronger than me, Katrina Laron. But then again, I’ve always known that.”
“And that’s just bullshit,” I said. “Just tell me. No matter how hard or how horrible or how complicated, just find the beginning and start there.”
He looked at me for a long moment, then pulled me close and kissed me hard. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, and I scooted over to sit beside him, one leg tucked beneath me so that I was at an angle to face him.
“You have Roger living in the shadows of your life,” he began, his matter-of-fact words somehow managing to drip with pain. “I have Anita.”
“Wow,” I said when the world returned to me. “That was—that just was.”
He chuckled. “Yes. It certainly was,” he said, and then kissed me, hard and deep. The kind of kiss that marked a woman in a way that even wild sex couldn’t manage.
He pulled me close to him and held me tight. I was still bound, and that made me feel more small and fragile. As if he were holding me safe, keeping me shielded from whatever awful things might lurk in the world.
I floated there a moment on a wave of contentment, but his words kept playing back in my head. “More, you said,” I murmured. “Will you tell me what the more is?”
“Eager?” he said, with a tease in his voice.
“Maybe.”
“I won’t tell you, but I’ll show you. Not all at once, but when you’re ready. Trust me, Kat. Trust me to make this journey exceptional for you.”
“I do.” I hesitated, then asked, “Will you take me to the Firehouse when we get back to Chicago?”
It may have been my imagination, but I thought that he stiffened slightly. “Maybe,” he said. “I haven’t decided.”
“Oh.”
I’m not sure why his response disappointed me, but it did. “Is it because of Michelle? Why you’re not sure, I mean?”
He eased back, then rolled me over so that I was facing him. “No,” he said. “Not because of Michelle.”
I nodded, knowing I should drop it. I could tell that much just from the tone of his voice. But somehow, I couldn’t quite seem to back away. “Were you two together?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I licked my lips. “I saw you the night of the gala. That argument with Conrad. I don’t know. I just thought . . .” I trailed off into a lame shrug.
“Conrad Pierce is a fucking asshole,” Cole said. “He was trying to recruit some of my girls into prostitution. I made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.”
I recalled Cole’s fury that night, and decided that it was perfectly understandable. “Was he trying to recruit Michelle, too?”
Cole exhaled. “No,” he said. And then a moment later, he added, “Christ, Kat. She works in that trade, okay?”
“Oh. Right.” I hesitated a moment, then pressed on. “Do you pay her? To fuck her, I mean.”
I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, as if he was trying hard to keep a grip on control. “Can we quit with the twenty questions?”
“I’m sorry.” I rolled away, suddenly chilled by the gulf I felt growing between us. “Really. Never mind.”
“Shit.” I heard him exhale, then felt the press of his hand against my shoulder. “Shit,” he repeated, this time more softly. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He drew in a breath, and the irony of the situation—me naked and bound with a plug in my rear while we discussed another woman—really wasn’t lost on me. “I don’t want to have secrets from you.” He eased me over so that I was facing him again, and the intensity I saw in his face nearly did me in.
“But I do have secrets,” he continued. “I won’t lie to you. But I want to start chipping away at them. So let me start by saying that I don’t pay Michelle, but I do fuck her. Or I did. I haven’t touched her since you. Haven’t wanted to. Haven’t needed to.”
He looked at me, and I felt that sweet ping in my heart. “Really?” The word tasted like hope. More, it tasted like love.
“I told you, Kat. You fill me up. It may take some time for me to figure out what that means, how it manifests. But I know that it’s true. Can you be patient, baby? Can you let me find the words my own way, in my own time?”
“I can,” I said, because at the heart of it the past didn’t matter. The Cole I’d fallen for was the one I saw in front of me. All the rest was just backstory and gossip. And all of that could wait.
twenty
“Cole?”
“Mmm.” He sounded far away and yet right beside me.
“Before you fall asleep, do you think you could untie me and, you know, all the rest?”
I heard the low rumble of his chuckle. “I don’t know. It’s tempting to just keep you like this, bound for my pleasure, mine to take whenever I want.”
“I already am,” I said. “You don’t need the ropes for that.”
I saw the emotion in his eyes in response to my words. And when he removed the plug and gently untied me, I thought that I’d never known anything more erotic than the simple experience of being tended to by this man.
Once I was unbound, we lay atop the covers, legs twined so that we were facing each other. I traced my fingertips over his chest, enjoying the way his skin felt against mine. “Thank you,” I finally said. “For showing me this. For showing me that I like it, too.”
“Oh, baby.” He brushed my cheek, and though there was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice, I couldn’t help but see the storm clouds in his eyes.
“What did I say?”
He sat up, leaning over in the bed as he took two long, deep breaths. “I’m glad you like it. There’s nothing I want more in this world than to give you pleasure.”
He stood up, then turned back so that he was facing the bed. I was sitting up now, wary because of the measured tone of his words. I wanted to beg him to explain what the trouble was, but I also knew that he would. He just needed to take his time, and I just needed to be patient.
“It’s not a question of like for me. It’s a need. A requirement. Hell, it’s my goddamn sustenance.” His eyes were locked on my face, and I don’t know what he saw there. Understanding? Maybe a little. Mostly, I wanted to simply hug him, because no matter what I did or didn’t understand, I knew that he was hurting. And all I wanted—all I would ever want again—was to see this man happy.
“I want to help,” I told him simply. “I want to understand.”
“I know,” he said. “I want that, too. I told you I didn’t want secrets, and I meant it. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t. I think the hardest thing I’ve ever done was tell you about Roger.”
“You’re stronger than me, Katrina Laron. But then again, I’ve always known that.”
“And that’s just bullshit,” I said. “Just tell me. No matter how hard or how horrible or how complicated, just find the beginning and start there.”
He looked at me for a long moment, then pulled me close and kissed me hard. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, and I scooted over to sit beside him, one leg tucked beneath me so that I was at an angle to face him.
“You have Roger living in the shadows of your life,” he began, his matter-of-fact words somehow managing to drip with pain. “I have Anita.”
