Bound to Accept (6 page)

“
No.”

“
No. And that's because
you like it rough.” His voice is soft again, alluring, and I want
him. He kisses the side of my neck and I arch my throat, leaning
into him. I don't care if there's pain. I'll take it, because I
want him. He laughs huskily, and squeezes my jaw. “We could fuck
like this.”

He lets his hips settle against mine again,
and he is so hard. I suck in a breath when his denim-clad erection
rocks against my clit. “Oh.”

He rolls my nipple between
his fingers as he rocks against me, stimulating me, bringing me
closer to…something. Maybe orgasm. But it's not enough. I'm not
even close. Just close enough to see it. To
want
.

“
Tristan,” I say
shakily.

“
We could fuck like this,”
he repeats, and when he speaks his voice is almost a growl, “and I
might even let you come.”

I bite down on my lip to keep from saying
something stupid that might kill the mood. Just listening to him
talk is enough. I can't believe that the man above me is my
Tristan. And then it occurs to me that if he's been hiding this
side from me all along, maybe he never was mine.

Cold lips press against my breast, a
soothing, apologetic kiss. Then he moves down my waist, scooching
down my legs for better access. Something hot runs up my side, and
I'm braced for it when I feel the heat of his skin on my other
side—but this time, he uses ice. My mind flutters from sensation to
sensation as his nose brushes down the downy trail of hair that
goes from my navel to my pubic hair. He can't see that, of course,
but at the same time, I wonder if maybe I should have shaved my
happy trail. Usually I do, but last time I forgot.

He doesn't seem put off. He laves his tongue
over my skin, biting and nipping and sucking. When he comes to the
line of dark hairs, he takes a few in his teeth and pulls. I cry
out again, and my hands are so slippery with sweat that I almost
lose my grip on his bed.

Tristan stops at the waistband of my jeans.
“I bet you're soaking.” His chin is resting on my pubic mound, and
I dig my nails into my palms when he inhales deeply against my skin
and stays like that, breathing softly against the sensitive patch
of skin that is just below my bellybutton. “I can almost taste you.
How sweet you'd be.”

My hips buck involuntarily as he cradles
them in his hands. I cannot breathe. I'm terrified of what will
happen next. I've never been more aroused in my life.

“
But,” and he pulls his
face back from my jeans, leaving a rush of cool air to fill in the
vacuum, “that's for another time. Only the first taste is
free.”

I feel dazed.

He's…he's not going to continue? But I
want…

What
do
I want?

One of his hands finds mine, and he squeezes
it lightly, taking it from the headboard and placing it over my
breast.

I want this.

I want
more
.

I want him.

“
Your heart is beating
pretty fast.”

“
Well, that's your fault,
isn't it?” I'm embarrassed at how breathless I sound.

“
Are you mouthing off to
me?”

“
No.” I smile weakly.
“Just teasing you.”

“
I told you what happens
to women who tease me.” He drags my wrists from the headboard and
pins them on either side of my head. I tug at them a little, but I
can't move my arms at all. “They get punished.”

Behind the blindfold, my eyes widen.
“Punished?”

Tristan laughs, low in his throat. “Oh
Kelly, I could just devour you.”

The nerves between my legs tingle, and I can
feel liquid trickle out between my legs. I want him to, I realize.
I want him to devour me, until none of my reservations are
left.

In his normal voice, he says, “I'll admit,
it feels strange…doing this. With you. I never thought I'd be
acting out a scene with the girl who wore tutus to school.”

“
That was in kindergarten,
and it happened
one
time
.”

“
Seriously, though. What
do you think about this?”

He toys with my breast, and I remember
suddenly that I still have my shirt off. I'd totally forgotten.

“
You haven't said
much.”

“
Can I take off my
blindfold?”

“
Yes. I'll do it.” The
scrap of silk falls into my lap. Tristan is sitting in front of me,
one leg bent in front of him, the other planted on the floor. “You
didn't answer my question.”

I pull on my bra. It gives me a chance to
look away from him. Put some space between us. My nipples are still
damp with his saliva, and feel raw and a little sore. They chafe
within the confines of my bra.

“
That was really…hot.” I
think I see him grin. “I didn't know people did stuff like that,
felt stuff like that, outside of romance novels. It's kind of
weird, to be honest. There is one thing, though. I'm…well, I've
never had sex before. Actual sex, anyway. I mean, I've done other
stuff.”

I wait for him to ask what other stuff, but
he doesn't. He frowns at me with speculation. “That's fine,” he
says. “There are plenty of virgins in the BDSM scene.”

“
Really?”

“
Really,” he says, and he
gives me a wicked grin. “They don't stay virgins for very long
usually, but they exist. They're there. And their presence
is…appreciated.” His smile gentles. “If you were to start a Dom/sub
relationship with me, we could start out with vanilla sex, just
until your body gets used to me. The first few times can be painful
enough on their own.”

“
And would there be—” I
wet my lips as I do up the buttons of my shirt “—a
contract?”

“
How did you know about—”
Tristan closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “That
fucking book,” he says, answering his own question. “No. Our
contract will be neither formal or legally binding,” he says, like
he gets this question a lot. He probably does. Did. “We can go by
ear, or we can lay down some groundwork and make changes
later.”

“
I don't want anything to
go up my ass,” I tell him. “Apart from that, maybe we should just
lay out the groundwork. And you can tell me what's
typical.”

“
Okay,” he says. “Fair
enough. Nothing up the ass.” Then he wraps me in a quick, brotherly
hug that feels odd after what we've just done. “But the rest of you
is fair game.”

I follow him into the hall. My legs feel
shaky. Tristan slips his shoes on and glances out the window. “It's
pretty late. Want me to drive you home?”

“
Yes, please.”

As we're in the car, buckling up (which
reminds me of the man in the porno's imposing leather pants), I
say, “Tristan?”

“
Yeah?”

“
I trust you.”

At that, he smiles, and presses a kiss on my
cheek. “That's all I ask.”

Chapter Five

I wake up the next morning
with a throbbing sensation between my legs. I dreamed about
him
last
night.

Not the innocent sort of dream, but a hot
montage of illicit acts that make me blush to recall them in the
daylight. It's sexy enough that once I dig out my vibrator's dusty
case and take care of myself, I write down what I can recollect as
an erotic short on my word processor. I save it under “XXX.doc.” I
guess you can say I'm feeling inspired.

After showering, I pull on a pair of Levi's
and one of my favorite graphic tees. This one has a picture of
Shakira's face superimposed over a Pac-Man shape and is captioned
“Waka Waka.”

I'm going out to lunch with the girls—Lydia,
Kayla, and Amy. Nothing too fancy. We meet up at Kayla's, since she
lives closest to our downtown. After a lengthy deliberation about
diets and allergies, we end up deciding on Thai.

“
I know a great place,”
Kayla says, nixing Bangkok Nights because she claims that their
glassware smells like wet dog. “It's called All Thai'd
Up.”

I almost choke on my spit as a whole flood
of naughty imagery floods my brain from yesterday's session with
Tristan. The three of them look at me oddly.

“
That sounds good,” I say
faintly. “Let's go there.”

There's a Thai flag hanging outside along
with a U.S. flag. When we open the door, I see a pagoda style
archway and a whole bunch of gold-painted Buddhas flanking the
door. I'm suspicious about how “Thai” this food is actually going
to be, because the owners are clearly white, but the food is
surprisingly good. Kayla and I get the Pad Thai. Amy orders basil
chicken. Lydia has pumpkin curry.

“
I need another job,”
Kayla says, twirling her noodles around her fork. “Those stupid
kids drive me crazy. And their parents are even worse—ungrateful
little shits.”

Then she looks around, quickly, as if
worried that the kids and their parents might be seated at a table
behind us.

“
It's a better idea to
look
before
you
speak,” says Amy.

“
No, it's look before
you
leap
.”

“
Same concept.” Amy rolls
her eyes and takes a delicate bite of her chicken. If I ordered
that, I'd have green stuff in my teeth all day, but somehow hers
stay a pristine white.

Lydia whips up her curry without eating it.
“Kayla, if you're looking for a new job, that sushi place downtown
is hiring. They're looking for another waiter.”

“
I'd be the worst waiter
in the history of the world.”

“
Yeah,” Amy agrees.
“You're not very subservient.”

Kayla flicks a beansprout at her. I flush,
suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. All Thai'd Up. Subservient. It
feels a bit as if everyone has bondage on the brain today.

“
Speaking of waiters,
where the hell is ours? I need another Thai coffee.” Amy shakes her
glass angrily, looking like a temperamental child with a rattle. “I
am so Yelping this place when I get home.”

“
Oh God, please don't,” I
say. “This is the only Thai place I've found that makes decent Pad
Thai.”

Amy sets down her glass, looking miffed.
“Well, all right,” she says, “but I'm not tipping. You guys can, if
you want, but I'm not going to.”

Kayla just rolls her eyes at Amy's
theatrics.

Lydia turns to me with a
smile. “
So
,
Kelly. How did your little chat with Tristan go?”

“
Oh! Yes!” Amy claps her
hands. “Tell us.”

Just remembering the feel
of his mouth on my body makes my breasts burn and my nipples
tighten. I wiggle in my seat, and Kayla says, with obvious glee,
“
Look
, she's
blushing! Ooh, did he kiss you, Kelly?”

That, and so much
more
.

“
He gave me lots to think
about.”

As soon as I say the words, I realize how
they can be interpreted. Amy's smile grows wicked. “Did he,
now?”

I feel my face go red. “Not like that.”

Oh, really?

“
He's just not the person
I was imagining. He has secrets. Dark ones.”

Kayla's smile disappears. “What kind of
secrets? He's not into anything illegal, is he?”

Several people nearby look
over. “No! I just mean he's always seemed so carefree, but he also
has a dark side. Which I guess isn't so surprising—we
all
have
one.”

They clearly want more information but
that's all I feel comfortable revealing. Anything more would feel
like a betrayal of Tristan.

It isn't as if I owe them the details,
anyway. I mean, it's my sex life. I have a right to some
privacy.

“
Be careful,” says Lydia.
“A dark side may sound sexy, Kelly, but it often means
trouble.”

Amy nods sagely. “Great sex,” she says. “Bad
social relationships.”

That upsets me. I don't like thinking of
Tristan as being socially dysfunctional. Anyway, from what I
remember, his relationships lasted a decent amount of time.

I know why I'm really so reluctant to tell
my friends. This is all moving very fast, and I know they wouldn't
approve. They'd think Tristan was taking advantage, and call him a
creep looking for another cherry to pop.

Which he's
not
. But they wouldn't
know that, because they don't know him the way I do. They couldn't
know how he made me feel, or that I spent all day yesterday
dreaming about him, and us, and all the possibilities of what we
could do—and how much they
scare
me.

“
So what did you end up
doing in San Jose?” I ask Amy and Lydia, to change the subject. And
Amy talks at length about all the shops they went to, and this
amazing Vietnamese restaurant. Lydia butts in with commentary, and
the two of them tell shared inside-jokes that only partially make
sense, but we all laugh anyway.

But my head is still in Tristan's apartment,
feeling his mouth on my body as he makes me experience pain in a
whole new light.

I can't stop thinking about when I'll see
him again.

When I get home, there is
a message from him on Facebook. It says,
How are you feeling today?

How
am
I feeling? Hot and bothered.
Confused.