Bound by Lies: Bound #1 (Adult Romantic Suspence) (2 page)

“W-what? What the hell are you talking about?”

Only then does his gaze leave my eyes to give me a long,
languid once-over. It isn’t the kind of look that I’m used to. It doesn’t rip
at my clothes or grab at my skin. No. This look caresses my body like a tender
kiss. And I am stripped until my wretched soul is left with nothing to cover
it.

I swallow. I stand up straight and lift my chin a little
higher. But my fingers are fiddling with the hem of my dress. Suddenly I’m not
feeling so comfortable in my skin-tight mini dress and black patent leather
sky-high come-fuck-me heels. What felt like armor, now feels cheap and flimsy.

He looks back up to meet my gaze. When I catch the sadness
in his eyes I flush. When he speaks there is no trace of anger left in his
voice. “You’re so much more than this. You just need someone to remind you.”

He turns without another word and starts to push through the
throng of bodies. For a second I’m so stunned I can’t move.

Bastard. How dare he? Don’t you dare go after him.

But my heart is beating in protest as I watch him leave,
taking my safety with him. I must have that feeling again. I must. He has tied
himself to something deep inside me that remembers who I am. It remembers
all
of what I am. The good parts, the worthy parts, the parts of me that are
more than this parade I put on for the world.
“You’re so much more than
this. You just need someone to remind you.”
I want someone to remind me. I
want
him
to remind me.

The fight is won. I go after him.

I can’t see him as I elbow my way through the crowd.
Move.
Move! Can’t you see I have to get to him?
Where is he? Has he left already?
What if I’ve already lost this chance?

Then I catch a glimpse of him stopped up ahead at the coat
check, and it renews my hope. I yell at him to stop, but he can’t hear me over
the noise of the music. No one can. These arms all feel like they are
conspiring to hold me back as I struggle and shove my way through the thick
forest of bodies. I watch helplessly as he turns from the coat check and
disappears through the club doors. I push and scramble my way through with
renewed vigor.

Finally I pull free. I burst through the club doors and scan
the lot in front of me. A cool night breeze teases at my hair, but I ignore it.
Where is he? Oh God. I lost him.

But then I see his tall figure striding across the
half-empty car park. A brown leather jacket now covers his frame, but I swear
his body is so familiar to me already that I could always recognize him without
needing to see his face.

“Hey! You!” I yell as I stride as fast as I can in my heels.

He just ignores me and keeps walking. Bastard. How dare he.
Men don’t ignore
me.
I snatch off my heels so that I can run faster.

His strong legs are long, and he is halfway across the
parking lot before I even get close to him. I am still yelling at him to stop,
and he is still ignoring me. When I’m close enough I throw one of my heels at
him to get his attention. It clips him on the skull and bounces to the ground.

He turns suddenly. “What the hell?”

I pull up short a few steps from him. “How dare you? Where
the hell do you get off talking to me like that?”

He growls as he rubs his head and I am reminded of an angry
bear. I take a small step back.

“Shit,” he mutters. “I knew I shouldn’t have come near you.”

“But you did. And you saved me from that creep and you made
him apologize to me, which was probably the sweetest thing anyone has done for
me in a long time, but then you said the most awful things… and… and now you’re
just walking off. What the fuck?”

“I’ve seen you in there more than once. You come in alone,
each time with a different dress on, but each dress has the same M.O. Up to
your ass and showing so much cleavage that you could catch flies with it. And
boy do you do catch some flies.” His face twists in disgust and I flush with
shame.

He thinks I’m a slut. Normally I wear that badge with honor.
Yeah, I can fuck like a man. If that makes me a slut, so what? But now, I
involuntarily pull down the hem of my dress, then curse myself for doing so.

“So I dress like this. So what? I don’t ever get any
complaints.”

“Of course they don’t complain. They’re getting exactly what
they want from you.”

I swallow. Yes, the men I fuck are using me, but I’m using
them, too. Aren’t I?

“I’m an adult. I can… do what I want.” But my voice sounds
smaller to my own ears. I fight back a prickle behind my lids.

He sighs and the hardness slips from his face a little. “Is
this really what you want for yourself? Really?”

Through his eyes I’m not sure anymore whether I like what I
see. It makes me tremble inside and threatens to blow the lid on my whole
sanity. What do I do now? I need some sort of answer.

I must get closer to him. I let my other heel slip to the
ground and I take a few steps forward cautiously, ignoring the stab of loose
gravel under my feet, closing the gap between us. He watches me warily, and I’m
reminded of approaching a wild animal. Don’t make any sudden moves. Don’t
startle him.

When I get close enough to smell him the feeling of safety
encases me again, and I know, whatever happens, I can’t let him get away. I
need this. I need him. I take a final step so we stand face to face.

“You said I just needed to be reminded. You could remind
me.”

I lift my palms towards him to get my first feel of his wide
chest. But he grabs my wrists before I can touch him and pins them to my sides.
It is our first touch and it makes me feel lightheaded and numb, and I revel in
it. Our eyes feel like they have fused to each other. In any other circumstance
I would have pouted or licked my lips or heaved out my breasts. But none of
these things feel right. With him, I feel real.

“You’re right,” I say. I’m surprised at how shaky my voice
is, but I keep going. “I don’t like who I am. But I don’t know how to be
anything else. You can’t just leave me like this. Please… don’t leave me like
this.”

“I wouldn’t be good for you.”

“You said that already.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

His lips purse and he looks pained all of a sudden. I get
the urge to take his bottom lip between my teeth and suck. But I don’t. I don’t
move.

“I have rules,” he says.

“I’m very good at following rules.”

Under the fierceness in his eyes I detect a hint of
amusement. “Do you really want to get involved with me, kitten?”

Kitten. As in, I am a kitten and he is a lion. And if I get
involved, he will eat me up. Dear God, I want to be eaten up by him.

He steps closer, but he doesn’t let go of my wrists. He’s
holding me gently but firmly and I can feel the strength in his hands. For some
reason being pinned by him relaxes me. It is like Valium and I am already
addicted.

He bends his head down and rubs his lips across my cheekbone,
starting from near my nose and along to my ear. Dear God. How can a man so
rough looking have lips that soft?

“Should I take your silence as a no?” His voice sinks into
my skin like a bite, sending heat into my blood.

I have to close my eyes. His size and his smell and his
touch and his voice are crowding all my senses. He feels like he is everywhere
around me, promising to possess me completely. But it’s not enough. My lower
belly clenches with a fierce ache. I have to have this man inside me. I need it
like I need my next breath.

“So what’ll it be, kitten?”

“Yes,” I breathe. “I’m saying yes.”

As he moves a little closer, his body presses lightly
against mine. We are barely touching, but the heat rolling off him is enough to
make my insides shake. I need to be possessed by him.

“Okay, kitten. We start now. You can tell all your little
boyfriends that they can fuck off. No more sex with strangers. No other men. Or
you’ll never see or hear from me again. Is that clear?”

I should be raging at his sheer arrogance and his insistence
at exclusivity. I don’t do exclusivity. Except, why do I want to do it with
him?

Then I realize why. It’s him.
He
is different. And
this,
this
demand is different. I can feel it. It is not for his
benefit, but for mine. Not for his pleasure, but for mine.

He pulls back and his eyes are hardened like bottled glass.
“I said. Is. That. Clear.”

I nod, my throat too constricted with lust to speak. If he
can reduce me to a quivering mess with only his voice, just imagine what he could
do with… his fingers... his tongue… his…

He steps back with one foot so that our bodies open apart
like they are hinged. Cold air rushes in where he was standing. I feel the tips
of his fingers settle between my shoulder blades. “I’m taking you home.”

Yes. I am ready. I am so ready for this man and whatever
rules or lessons he has planned for me.

He pushes me forward, directing me by the light touch on my
back. The confidence with which he leads me, the way he directs me through the
lot tells me he knows how to be in control. It promises me that if I let him
lead me, he will show me numbing, blissful, submissive pleasure like I have
never known. I allow him to walk me wordlessly through the parking lot, getting
wetter with each step.

He stops me aside a motorcycle, big and beastly and chrome.

“You’re taking me home on that? Without a helmet?”

“It’s not actually required by law here to wear one. But I
promise I’ll drive slowly and carefully,” he adds with a little smile.

I stare at the machine for a moment longer. “It looks like
it bites.” I have never ridden a motorbike. They’ve always been too dangerous
in my mind. And I know the statistics of motorbike accidents.

He laughs. “The bike isn’t what you need to worry about.”

He takes his fingers from me. Immediately I feel unbalanced.
I wish he would touch me again. When I turn back to him he is holding out my
heels by the straps. He had picked up my discarded shoes for me. I blink
several times before I take them off him and clutch at them with one hand. I am
mesmerized by his sure yet graceful movements as he shrugs his brown leather
jacket off those powerful shoulders. Sweet Jesus, could this man get
any
sexier?

He holds out his jacket. “Put this on. You’ll get cold on
the way home.”

“But what about you?”

He shrugs and says nothing, still holding out the jacket.

I take it from him. Suddenly I feel a prickle at my jaw. God
dammit. This man does one nice thing for me and I am getting weepy. Have I been
so devoid of simple kindness lately that this one little action has almost
reduced me to tears?

A deep sadness fills me like rust-colored water into an
empty glass vase when I realize the answer is yes.

I turn my back to him and slip on the jacket, transferring
my heels from hand to hand. The inside of it is warm, and his scent brushes up
my neck to my nose in a soft caress. God, I could lose myself in his smell and
this warmth. I almost believe that this jacket is bulletproof.

He straddles the motorbike and it seems to sigh under him.
He knocks back the kickstand with his heel and runs his fingers across the
controls on the handlebar. The motorbike growls to life under him like a waking
lion. Holding one handlebar to keep it steady, he turns to look at me.

“Get on.”

My limbs work of their own volition, moving me towards him
like a ship returning to harbor. Before I realize what is happening I am seated
on the bike in front of him, fitting in the space between his legs. Once again
the feeling of security and safety falls over me. Nothing can touch me while
I’m with this man. He is my titanium shield.

I can feel the length of his hard, muscled body as I gently
lean back into him. His arm reaches around me and holds the other handlebar,
and this feeling of safety is complete.

He revs the engine and pulls out of the parking lot into the
Saturday late-night traffic, following my directions towards my place.

He is true to his word. He rides slowly and carefully. I
lean back into him and my head falls so comfortably into the crook of his neck.
I close my eyes and just breathe as the wind whips around us, and the rumble of
the engine causes all my muscles to relax. Within this rush of air I sit
balanced, calm, at peace, like the eye of a storm. Even though we are only
touching the earth through two precarious points of the tires beneath us, I
feel like I could fall asleep here in his arms.

A thought forces its way into my peace. What kind of voodoo
is this? And… can I trust it?

He pulls into my driveway before I realize how far we’ve
come and shuts off the motorbike’s engine. His boots tap down on the ground and
I follow suit. I feel the loss of his body heat as he lifts himself off the
seat behind me. He holds out a hand and I take it. The skin on my palm sears
and crackles where he touches me as he helps me off the bike. The heat dances
like fireflies through my body. Instantly I’m awake and I feel like I wouldn’t
need to sleep for days. I’m caught in his gaze and I can’t help but just stare.
He nods at something behind me. What is it?

Oh. The front door. Right.

I try to compose myself as I pull the key out of the small
bag slung over my body. I unlock the door. I almost fall in after it when he
reaches past me to push it open for me. My heart is thudding in my ears and my
throat is dry as I walk up the stairs, heels still clutched in one hand.
Feeling his presence behind me and his eyes on my legs makes me dizzy. I have
to concentrate on each step.

What the hell is wrong with me? I have slept with good
looking men before, but none of them has made me so damn… new and awkward like
this.