“What did he mean you are free?”
“I didn’t understand until I stopped fighting against the bonds. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually I gave the ropes control, and then I understood what he meant. By giving up control, I became free.”
“That doesn’t make sense at all,” she said.
“It won’t unless you experience it for yourself.”
“Do you do the rope thing now? What did you call it?”
“Shibari. I haven’t been practicing much recently. For about three years, it was an outlet for me. I enjoyed tying women, but I only did it when Owen was with me. I’m not sure I trusted myself to be alone with a woman. They tend to beg for sex after I tie them, and I wasn’t willing to take it that far. Owen had no problem with that aspect. He’d have sex with them if they wanted it and eventually he started helping with the bondage too.”
“So you and Owen tied women up and then he had sex with them?”
“Not always. We left that decision to the woman.”
“But you didn’t do anything sexual with them?”
He took a deep breath. “I would usually…” He coughed. Wow, was he really going to tell her this? “…perform o**l s*x on them.”
Her breath caught, and she squirmed again.
“But I never penetrated them, never allowed them to touch my c**k in any way. No blow jobs. Nothing.”
“You had to have been miserable.”
“I would have been, but Owen helped me out.” His stomach clenched. What must this woman think of him?
“How?” she asked.
“Hand jobs.”
“Oh, but no sex?”
“Isn’t it all sex?” he said. “That’s why I’m so confused. Sara was gone before I was introduced to Shibari, so somehow I convinced myself that it was okay. She didn’t like o**l s*x—”
“I like it,” Dawn blurted.
A long silence hung awkwardly between them, and he prayed for a bolt of lightning to light her features so he could see her expression.
“I mean if the guy knows what he’s doing,” she said. “Maybe she didn’t like it because you’re not good at it.”
Kellen chuckled. “Trust me, I’m good at it. She was a bit timid in bed.” Kellen rubbed the back of his neck. “That kind of deep intimacy embarrassed her, so she didn’t want me making out with her pu**y for hours on end.”
“Dear lord,” Dawn whispered.
“So I convinced myself that o**l s*x didn’t go against my oath to her.”
“Thank God.”
Kellen chuckled at Dawn’s little asides. “And though I told her I’d never let a woman touch my cock, I never said anything about a man touching it. So I used Owen to get me off because I felt comfortable enough with him to let him touch me. The thought of any other man anywhere near my c**k makes me ill, but Owen is different for some reason, and that’s the part I don’t understand. Why am I okay with him touching me?”
“Do you love him?”
“He’s my best friend.”
“So, yeah, you love him.”
It wasn’t as simple as that. “But not romantically.”
“Are you sexually attracted to him or not?” Neither judgmental nor accusatory, her tone was simply inquisitive.
Kellen tried to sort through the jumbled feelings he had for Owen. He was so glad that Dawn was letting him air his filthy laundry without judgment. He’d needed to talk to someone about this for years. He couldn’t discuss it with Owen when he really didn’t understand what was going on in his head, and he obviously didn’t want the rest of the band to know what went on between him and Owen behind closed doors, so he couldn’t talk to Jacob or Gabe or Adam either. Dawn couldn’t possibly understand how much she was doing for him by just listening and forcing him to face reality.
“I don’t look at him and think, damn, I want to f**k him unconscious. It’s more like, please, will someone touch me there? I can’t stand this anymore. So Owen’s handy. Literally.” Kellen’s stomach sank as realization hit him. “Shit, I’m just using him, aren’t I?” His elbows hit the piano keys as he dropped his face into his hands. “How could I do that to him? He must be as confused about this as I am.”
“Do you look at me and think, damn, I want to f**k her unconscious?” Dawn said.
Kellen’s back stiffened, drawing him away from the keyboard as he thought about the way she looked in that loose, shapeless white dress. How she smelled of honeysuckle and the sea. The sound of her voice and the music she so easily drew from the piano before him. He knew he was in trouble when he imagined how she’d taste—as delicious as her sweet, vanilla French toast—and how her supple flesh would feel beneath his hands. Warm. Soft. Smooth. He could almost feel her writhing beneath him as he claimed her with slow, deep thrusts. His c**k throbbed and his balls ached with an unbearable fullness. What he wouldn’t give to be able to bury himself inside her. But he couldn’t.
He took a shaky breath and held it deep in his lungs, willing his lust to dissipate.
Torture. This was f**king torture.
“Yes,” he groaned. “That’s exactly what I think when I look at you.” He clenched both fists and rested them on either knee to keep himself from reaching for her. “But I can’t.”
The storm seemed to grow louder as their conversation lulled. He’d never been more tempted to go back on his promises to Sara. He had to leave this house. His convictions were strong, but his flesh grew weaker each moment he was in Dawn’s company.
“Could you tie me?” she asked quietly.
He tensed and scrambled from the bench, stubbing his toe on the piano leg. Pain shot up his foot and shin, and he welcomed the diversion. She was already a work of art. How beautiful would she look with knots and ropes drawing attention to her graceful lines and soft curves?
Kellen licked his lips and swallowed hard despite the sudden dryness in his mouth.
“I’m going to go,” Kellen said.
Lightning flashed in quick succession. Thunder made the house shudder. The wind howled, slashing the torrential rain against the windows in sheets.
“You can’t go out in that,” Dawn said. So matter of fact. So Dawn.
A gentle ping sounded on the piano as she found the keys in the darkness and began to play his song. Funny how he thought of it as his song. He wished Dawn could be his too.
“I didn’t understand until I stopped fighting against the bonds. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually I gave the ropes control, and then I understood what he meant. By giving up control, I became free.”
“That doesn’t make sense at all,” she said.
“It won’t unless you experience it for yourself.”
“Do you do the rope thing now? What did you call it?”
“Shibari. I haven’t been practicing much recently. For about three years, it was an outlet for me. I enjoyed tying women, but I only did it when Owen was with me. I’m not sure I trusted myself to be alone with a woman. They tend to beg for sex after I tie them, and I wasn’t willing to take it that far. Owen had no problem with that aspect. He’d have sex with them if they wanted it and eventually he started helping with the bondage too.”
“So you and Owen tied women up and then he had sex with them?”
“Not always. We left that decision to the woman.”
“But you didn’t do anything sexual with them?”
He took a deep breath. “I would usually…” He coughed. Wow, was he really going to tell her this? “…perform o**l s*x on them.”
Her breath caught, and she squirmed again.
“But I never penetrated them, never allowed them to touch my c**k in any way. No blow jobs. Nothing.”
“You had to have been miserable.”
“I would have been, but Owen helped me out.” His stomach clenched. What must this woman think of him?
“How?” she asked.
“Hand jobs.”
“Oh, but no sex?”
“Isn’t it all sex?” he said. “That’s why I’m so confused. Sara was gone before I was introduced to Shibari, so somehow I convinced myself that it was okay. She didn’t like o**l s*x—”
“I like it,” Dawn blurted.
A long silence hung awkwardly between them, and he prayed for a bolt of lightning to light her features so he could see her expression.
“I mean if the guy knows what he’s doing,” she said. “Maybe she didn’t like it because you’re not good at it.”
Kellen chuckled. “Trust me, I’m good at it. She was a bit timid in bed.” Kellen rubbed the back of his neck. “That kind of deep intimacy embarrassed her, so she didn’t want me making out with her pu**y for hours on end.”
“Dear lord,” Dawn whispered.
“So I convinced myself that o**l s*x didn’t go against my oath to her.”
“Thank God.”
Kellen chuckled at Dawn’s little asides. “And though I told her I’d never let a woman touch my cock, I never said anything about a man touching it. So I used Owen to get me off because I felt comfortable enough with him to let him touch me. The thought of any other man anywhere near my c**k makes me ill, but Owen is different for some reason, and that’s the part I don’t understand. Why am I okay with him touching me?”
“Do you love him?”
“He’s my best friend.”
“So, yeah, you love him.”
It wasn’t as simple as that. “But not romantically.”
“Are you sexually attracted to him or not?” Neither judgmental nor accusatory, her tone was simply inquisitive.
Kellen tried to sort through the jumbled feelings he had for Owen. He was so glad that Dawn was letting him air his filthy laundry without judgment. He’d needed to talk to someone about this for years. He couldn’t discuss it with Owen when he really didn’t understand what was going on in his head, and he obviously didn’t want the rest of the band to know what went on between him and Owen behind closed doors, so he couldn’t talk to Jacob or Gabe or Adam either. Dawn couldn’t possibly understand how much she was doing for him by just listening and forcing him to face reality.
“I don’t look at him and think, damn, I want to f**k him unconscious. It’s more like, please, will someone touch me there? I can’t stand this anymore. So Owen’s handy. Literally.” Kellen’s stomach sank as realization hit him. “Shit, I’m just using him, aren’t I?” His elbows hit the piano keys as he dropped his face into his hands. “How could I do that to him? He must be as confused about this as I am.”
“Do you look at me and think, damn, I want to f**k her unconscious?” Dawn said.
Kellen’s back stiffened, drawing him away from the keyboard as he thought about the way she looked in that loose, shapeless white dress. How she smelled of honeysuckle and the sea. The sound of her voice and the music she so easily drew from the piano before him. He knew he was in trouble when he imagined how she’d taste—as delicious as her sweet, vanilla French toast—and how her supple flesh would feel beneath his hands. Warm. Soft. Smooth. He could almost feel her writhing beneath him as he claimed her with slow, deep thrusts. His c**k throbbed and his balls ached with an unbearable fullness. What he wouldn’t give to be able to bury himself inside her. But he couldn’t.
He took a shaky breath and held it deep in his lungs, willing his lust to dissipate.
Torture. This was f**king torture.
“Yes,” he groaned. “That’s exactly what I think when I look at you.” He clenched both fists and rested them on either knee to keep himself from reaching for her. “But I can’t.”
The storm seemed to grow louder as their conversation lulled. He’d never been more tempted to go back on his promises to Sara. He had to leave this house. His convictions were strong, but his flesh grew weaker each moment he was in Dawn’s company.
“Could you tie me?” she asked quietly.
He tensed and scrambled from the bench, stubbing his toe on the piano leg. Pain shot up his foot and shin, and he welcomed the diversion. She was already a work of art. How beautiful would she look with knots and ropes drawing attention to her graceful lines and soft curves?
Kellen licked his lips and swallowed hard despite the sudden dryness in his mouth.
“I’m going to go,” Kellen said.
Lightning flashed in quick succession. Thunder made the house shudder. The wind howled, slashing the torrential rain against the windows in sheets.
“You can’t go out in that,” Dawn said. So matter of fact. So Dawn.
A gentle ping sounded on the piano as she found the keys in the darkness and began to play his song. Funny how he thought of it as his song. He wished Dawn could be his too.
