The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan (18 page)

BOOK: The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan
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She shook her head picking up two of the glasses. “I believe there are some cookies in the freezer in the utility room if you want to grab a plate and get some.”

Declan opened another cupboard with the familiarity of someone well acquainted with the room and pulled out a plate.

~*~

 

Knots formed in Nyxie
’s stomach at the sound of raised voices in the kitchen. She couldn’t hear what they were saying but Nyxie knew the words spoken during an argument were a lot less important than the undercurrent and the tone.

She tried to ignore them and concentrate on the photos before her. Nearly every picture was a studio shot. Mostly, they were Declan’s school pictures or Declan wearing his football or baseball uniform
s. There were pictures of both his parents when they were still in Marines dressed in their formal white garb. But the picture she like the best was of Declan with two older people—presumably his grandparents. She thought he looked to be about Reina’s age—about eight. He was sandwiched between his grandparents in a hug and his grandfather appeared to be tickling him making him laugh. They all three look so happy, like a Norman Rockwell painting.

There wer
e moments since her father died that Nyxie felt that way—only she felt that way when surrounded by her brother and nieces.

“That’s Declan’s favorite, too.”

Nyxie set it down where she found it and move back to her place on the sofa. The woman handed her a crystal clear glass of golden tea.

“Thank you.”

“So, you’re a waitress?”

The smile on the woman’s face didn’t reach her eyes
she noticed and felt herself shrinking back into the sofa. This woman had been married to Coach Stryker for decades. How different could she be?

“Yes, ma’am,” she said looking to the doorway for Declan.

“Are you working your way through college?”

“No, ma’am. I’m supporting my family.”

The woman sipped her tea as she composed her thoughts. “And how many little ones do you have?”

Nyxie felt the woman’s judgment despite her neutral tone. “Three,” she said. “Cody, Lotus and Reina.”

“And is their father still in the picture?”

She hesitated before answering. “Cody’s father died two years ago. I don’t know who Lotus or Reina’s fathers are. So, no, their dads are not in their lives.”

Nyxie knew how she made it sound, but she sensed the woman had already made up her mind to dislike her. She wondered what the woman would think of the true nature of her relationship to her son. Dorothea may have thought she was dirt beneath her feet, but she wasn’t the one with the proclivities.

“All I found were Oreos,” Declan said entering the room with a handful of cookies on a plate.

“That’s good enough. Everyone likes them.”

Declan eyed his mother suspiciously knowing she’d never serve package cookies to a guest and suspected he’d been sent for the cookies to give her a minute alone with Onyx.
Shit
.

Declan sat down as close to Nyxie as before with his arm slung over her shoulders. Under the guise of kissing her temple, he whispered in her ear. “Is everything okay?”

She smiled briefly and nodded.

“I suppose you heard about all the excitement the other day—about that boy getting hit by the pickup. One of your father’s players was driving the pickup. Didn’t they take him to UMC?”

“Yes, I operated on him.”

“Did you? And he survived?”

Declan fixed a hard stare on his mother. “Is that supposed to be a joke? It’s not funny. He could have died—he still could.”

“Sometimes, it’s less cruel to let them go, than it is to save them for a lifetime of disability. I bet his family may not admit it, but they’d rather not wipe the ass of a drooling cripple for the rest of their lives.”

“Major!”

“You’re wrong,” Nyxie said rising to her feet. “I have cared for my brother since he was four years old and I will wipe his as
s until he’s a hundred and four if that’s what it takes.”

Declan stood up and put his arm around her shoulders, casting dark looks at his mother. “When your family truly loves you, they’d give up everything for you.” Within seconds, they were to the door.

Dorothea stood, turning pale as she put two and two together. “Honey, I didn’t know. I would’ve never said anything if I’d known he was your brother.” She looked accusingly at Declan. “You should’ve told me.”

“And then you could judge her over CPS taking them. You have no idea what sacrifices she made daily for her brother and nieces. She didn’t deserve to have them taken away and I’m going to help her get them back. I don’t care if you or Coach likes it. It’s my money, Grams and Gramps left it to me, and I think they’d be proud to see it used to reunite a blended family who loves each other as much as Grams and Gramps and I loved each other.”

He had her out of the house and into the Jeep as quickly as he could manage. Dorothea stood in the doorjamb and cringed at the sound of the tires squealing on the cement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

18

 

 

 

They were halfway to Lubbock when Nyxie broke the strained silence.

“Declan, if you ever did get a brain tumor, you know you can call me, and I’d take care of you. It’s the least I can do after everything you’re doing for me.”

He turned and smiled warmly at her. “
Sir
,” he corrected. “That’s kind of you, Nyxie, but when our contract is up, you have no further obligations to me. Besides, the possibility he gave me anything truly harmful is remote. When I said that to Coach, it was more so he thinks about what he’s doing to his current players than what he did to me.”

Nyxie nodded and stared out the window at the train running parallel to the highway, its speed slower
than their seventy-five miles per hour. “It wouldn’t have to be something life-threatening. I’ll fetch you ice cream and pudding if you had your tonsils out. Or I’d listen to you drunk all me at 4:00 AM to complain that your next sub likes it too much for you to get any real enjoyment out of it.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You think it would be less enjoyable to me with a sub who didn’t fight me at every turn?”

She shrugged, but didn’t turn from the window. “I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this. I’m trying to figure it out—trying to please you. I want you to feel like you haven’t wasted your money.”

“Look at me,” he said in a forceful tone.

Nyxie slowly turned towards her Dom. She bit her lip as she dropped her eyes from his face.

“As long as you get your kids back, the money won’t have been wasted. But I intend to get my money’s worth from you. You act like I’m the only one with tendencies here, but you were quick to run to the bathroom to touch yourself when I delivered the last blow. That is not what someone with no masochistic tendencies does. You just
don’t want to admit to yourself you liked it.”

“I don’t. It’s stress relief for me. Having you spank me made my stress level go way up. It’s the only thing I knew to do.”

“How odd. On the way there you said you were too stressed to come. Which is it?”

Nyxie looked at him askance and crossed her legs, bouncing her foot in the confined space of the vehicle. “I don’t know.”

“Goddammit, Nyxie, stop that. I’ve told you I don’t want you masturbating and there you go being defiant right in front of me. I know what you’re doing. All this talk about what happened; has you excited again, and you’re self-arousing yourself by squeezing your thighs together and bouncing your leg. What’s next; sitting on your foot and rocking back and forth?”

She would’ve liked to deny it—she’d never realized the motion aroused her, but she did indeed feel stimulated when she did it. “I didn’t realize I was doing it,” she said uncrossing her legs. “I guess because I don’t orgasm that way, I never considered it masturbation.”

“I’m going to drop you off at the hospital and go home to get some sleep. I’ll take care of your needs when I see you tonight, so no more self-stimulation. I want you thinking about it—anticipating what I’m going to do to you.”

“Yes, sir. But I think you’re wrong about me having masochistic tendencies.”

“Really? You may have justified provoking me earlier with some bullshit excuse about giving up control, but the fact is; you intentionally provoked me. I hadn’t planned on punishing you, but you didn’t stop when you were warned. Why would you do that? You were naked, I was touching you intimately and it aroused you—you were wet when I touched you. If that’s not a sign of arousal, I don’t know what is. It made you excited and you didn’t know how to deal with it, so you did what any horny girl with no knowledge of seduction does—you put out an invitation to the closest male.”

She chuckled softly. “
If
—and I’m not saying I was—but if I was putting out an invitation, do you really think I just put out an invitation to you because you were the only man around?”

“That and we have an arrangement,” he said. “You know it’s inevitable. You’re a realist and you’re also curious.”

It suddenly occurred to her, he believed the only reason she would be with him was because she made a bargain with him. “I’m looking forward to our time together. I know it’s not a normal girlfriend/boyfriend thing, but I’m pleased it’s with you.”

He stared out over his steering wheel, not acknowledging what she said. They were just passing the Lubbock city limits sign when she spoke again.

“I don’t know which scares me the most. The possibility you might be right about me having masochistic tendencies, or that you’re dead wrong. Do you suppose it can be learned?”

Declan shook his head. “I’m not wrong. You are submissive with masochistic tendencies. You just won’t admit it to yourself.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts, her chin jutting out stubbornly.

“I don’t know how you can act like you know me better than I know myself. It’s really annoying.”

As he pulled to a stop at the first light in town, he turned to her, his gray-green eyes reflecting his dark mood. “No more annoying than the little attitude you’re brewing up right now. Nyxie, I just dealt with both my parents and I’m dog tired. I didn’t take you on as my sub to increase my stress.”

“Sorry, sir,” she said placing her hands in her lap. “I have a feeling taking my punishment is going to be easier than following the behavior that avoids it.”

A slight smile came to his lips. “I’m going to think you’re doing it on purpose to be punished,” he said taking off from the light. “Oh, wait, I think that already.”

She bit her lip, crossed her legs and as quickly as she realized what she was doing, she uncrossed them. “Damn.”

“Nyxie, you told me when your father was still alive, you used to take punishment for Cody.”

“What my father dished out was not punishment. But yes, I drew his anger to protect Cody. He was little and I knew I could handle Daddy’s worst.” There was a definite lowering in the volume of her voice when she spoke of her father and her tone became flat and emotionless.

“Even though you had lived through the same thing at his age?”

“It was far worse to witness either of my siblings getting it than getting hit myself.”

“Your sister never did that for you?”

She shook her head, her eyes on her hands folded in her lap. “No, Melinda wasn’t as strong as me. I was on my own.”

Declan stretched out his arm and put his hand on her jean-encased thigh. His hand slid between her thighs before coming to a rest on the top of her leg.

“And how did it feel protecting Cody?”

“It hurt.”

He chuckled. “Of course, I mean what emotion did you feel?”

She shrugged. When his hand slid between her legs a second time, her eyes closed and she exhaled through her teeth.

“Poor little Nyxie. You’re all worked up with no relief. I promised tonight you’ll have your needs met. But for now, would you please answer my question; how did it feel taking the abuse for your brother?”

“It made me proud that I could protect him. It made me feel like I could control what happened to us.”

“And that felt good—not the beating, but the pride and the control.”

She lifted one shoulder in a dismissive gesture. “Yeah.”

“Did it change the pain?”

“What do you mean?”

“I wish you had your ears pierced because when there is a payoff, people who make the hugest fuss over a little needle, eagerly get their ears pierced and don’t mind even though it’s more painful than being pricked by a tiny needle.” He turned his head and asked her again. “Did the pain change when you took it intentionally to protect Cody?”

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