BeyondAddiction (17 page)

“Just so you know,” he told her by way of greeting, “when
you get here I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.” His voice eased slightly
the tension gripping her. “And I think I’ll get out my favorite crop to stripe
your ass with.” His chuckle was low and sexy. “Does that make you wet, girl?”

She closed her eyes. He was in full Dom mode and she needed
that from him right now so badly.

Oh Cord, if you only knew what I nearly did you’d use
more than that crop on me. How can I still be so fucked up?

She forced a calm tone to her voice. “Wet? Always. But I
need to make a quick stop at Claire’s before I get home. My last appointment
didn’t pan out quite like I thought.” And wasn’t that just the understatement
of the year? “So about six? Maybe six thirty? Is that good?” She dropped her
voice. “Maybe we could make use of that gigantic bathtub.”

“I’ll have it waiting. Don’t dally. And Fallon?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget I love you.”

She ended the call and let her head drop back against the
seat. Cord didn’t profess his feelings very often, but somehow he seemed to
know this was one of those times to do so. If she didn’t get past this thing
with Brian, she was going to totally ruin her life. Maybe there was a cure she
could take or something.

Oh wait.
Cord
was supposed to be the cure. And look
how well that was turning out. She felt as if she had a systemic disease that
resisted all treatment.

What she really needed was a dose of Claire’s
balls-to-the-wall backtalk.

Checking that traffic was clear, she pulled back onto the
road and headed to her friend’s house.

“You know how stupid I think you are, right?” Claire Panetta
stared at Fallon over the rim of her wineglass.

The two women were in Claire’s backyard, sipping wine.
Fallon had just finished blurting out everything to her while her friend
listened intently.

“I know
I
think I’m stupid,” she replied and shook
her head. “But I’m like a junkie with him. I get a tiny taste of that crack and
I fall apart.” She gulped some wine, hoping it would calm her racing pulse and
ease the tension riding low in her belly. “Damn, Claire. Just when I think I’ve
put it all in the past, something like this happens and I’m in danger of losing
it again.”

Lucky for her, Fallon had some odds and ends left at
Claire’s from her stay there, including a thong. No shoes, but thankfully
Claire wore the same size and offered replacements when she blurted out the
details of her flight.

“Do you want me to remind you again what a mess you were
when I hauled you out of there?” her friend asked. “You were so damn thin. And
depressed. All your beautiful self-confidence gone. Out of contact with
everyone for months. You hardly even took a breath without his permission.” She
took a healthy swallow of the liquid in her glass. “He destroyed your mind.”

“I know, I know.” Fallon sighed. She seemed to be doing a
lot of that lately. “God, Claire. It’s like my body disconnects itself from my
mind when I’m with him. I want to beg him to punish me. Humiliate me. Anything
he wants. Just for his rare words of approval, of praise. And the damn
orgasms.”

“Fallon.” Claire set her drink on the umbrella table and
stared at her friend. “Listen to me and pay careful attention to what I’m
saying.”

“Yes, Mother.” Fallon twisted her lips into a wry grin. She
was finally beginning to settle down, her emotional plane leveling out. Claire
was better than a dose of valium.

“Don’t ‘Mother’ me. You came here for advice so you’re damn
well going to get it. And listen to it.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Fallon refilled her glass from the
bottle on the table.
One more.
Then I’ll be ready to go home.

Claire leaned forward in her chair. “I’ll say this one more
time. When I managed to get you away from Brian, you were a fucking mess.
Barely able to tell me what day it was.” She slapped her hand on the table. “An
emotional and psychological wreck.”

“What can I say? You’re right.” Fallon ran her finger slowly
around the rim of her glass. “How did I let him do it to me, Claire? I’m smart,
savvy, independent. How did I give him such control?”

“
You
tell
me
, kiddo. Although I have to say,
the man has an appetite for control unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. You
should hear what I’ve learned about his business tactics.”

Fallon stared at her, pulse quickening. “Who did you ask? I
mean—”

“Honey, listen to me. It’s easy to get people talking about
Brian Willoughby. Just drop his name and six people whip out their knives.”
Claire shrugged. “Find a room with ten people in it and nine have a reason to
kill him.”

“How did I not see it? Am I that stupid?”

Claire shook her head. “No. Just vulnerable. Like a lot of
us. And he knows just how to zero in on that.”

“And what did you find out?”

“That he treats everyone the way he treats his women. He
fucks their minds. Finds their weak spots. Pushes their buttons and when they
start to fall apart, he swoops in for the kill.” Pain flashed briefly across
her face. “I heard about someone he drove out of business mercilessly so he
could snap up the company on the cheap. He destroyed the lives of so many
people, treating them like they were yesterday’s trash.”

Fallon couldn’t claim to be surprised. “Why didn’t you tell
this before?”

“Oh honey, I tried. But Fallon, you barely absorbed anything
I said to you. For weeks after I got you out of his house, I was actually
afraid you’d never snap out of it.” She lifted her glass and took a sip of the
cold liquid. “Some nights I’d hear you crying and listen at your door. Hear you
saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over and asking him to punish you so he would care
for you again. What kind of man
does
that to a woman?” She blew at a
stray strand of hair. “You’re seriously lucky that after all his ‘punishments’,
he didn’t scar your body the way he scarred your mind.”

Fallon leaned back in her chair and looked down at her
hands. “He has my mind all messed up and I can’t seem to fix it. It’s as if he
has invisible ropes binding me to him. Why can’t I break away, no matter how
smart I know it would be? One touch, one word and I willingly fall into hell.”
She looked at her friend. “I should be locked away someplace.”

“We tried that, remember? Here? In my house?” She shook her
head. “I thought when you moved out you were good to go. You hadn’t seen him
for months and didn’t even talk about him anymore. You were so eager to get
your own place. Start up your business again.”

Fallon rolled the cool glass across her forehead. “Shows you
how stupid I was.
Am
.”

“Do you remember telling me how important the issue of trust
is in a D/s relationship? And about the concept of safe, sane and consensual?
That those had been key not only with prior Doms, but most especially in your
situation with Cord?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t look at her friend. She knew what was
coming.

“That it’s the difference between Doms who respect their
subs and those who don’t? Fallon, you have a man who knows what this kind of
relationship is all about. Who values it. Don’t throw him away for a cruel
bastard who knows how to push all the right buttons for all the wrong reasons.”

Fallon sighed. “You’re right. I know you are.”

“You have a wonderful man who fulfills all your needs, no
matter how kinky. Who obviously loves you to distraction and is trying to make
sure you’ve got the asshole out of your system so the two of you can move to
the next stage of your relationship. Are you willing to give all that up?”

She shook her head. “Of course not. But—”

Claire slammed her glass down on the table. “There are no
buts
here! Honey, Brian is evil! He fucking brainwashed you and programmed your
body. You were little more than a zombie!”

“I
know
, but—”

“But
nothing
! The man seduced your mind, made you
want things you never in your life would have desired and turned you into a
mindless puppet. I can’t believe you’re still letting him mess with you!”

The heat of shame flushed Fallon’s face. She took a moment
to gather her thoughts. Finally, she began, “Think of it like this. Remember
when you had that auto accident and the pain in your back wouldn’t go away?”

Claire sighed. “How could I forget? It was months before I
felt really human again.”

“And remember how you depended on those pills you took, more
and more each day? Until they were the first thing you thought about when you
woke up each morning?”

Claire nodded silently.

“I had to move into your house,” Fallon continued. “Locked
up even the aspirin bottle until you were clean. I know you’ll never forget
that.”

The other woman studied her carefully. “So you’re telling me
that Brian Willoughby is like that drug, and it’s still in your system?”

A sick feeling surged through Fallon as she nodded.

“But I did almost the same thing for
you
,” Claire
pointed out. “Kept you here until you were back on your feet. Feeling human.
Confident again.”

Fallon pushed her chair back and walked to the edge of the
deck, hoping the heat of the sun would warm the sudden chill gripping her. “But
psychological addiction is a lot tougher to cure. The need is always there,
lurking in my subconscious, just waiting for the right trigger.”

“And you started this relationship with Cord, moved into his
house, while knowing all this?”

Fallon whirled to face her friend. “You have no idea how
much I pray each day that Cord will be my ultimate cure.”

“Well, missy, you’ve got yourself in a fine fix. But I
wouldn’t use his threats against Cord as an excuse for whatever comes next.
Cord Jamieson can take care of himself. It’s
you
I’m worried about. What
are you going to do? Put everything you’ve got now in jeopardy over a man whose
pleasure comes from fucking your mind?”

Fallon raked her fingers through her hair, brushing it back
as if she could brush all the implanted triggers from her brain. “No. Yes. I
don’t know! Sometimes I think maybe I should just go to him one last time and
get it over with. Maybe it will be so bad this time it will finally scrub him
out of my system. You know?”

Claire shook her head, a sad expression on her face. “You’re
talking crazy. The man is dangerous.”

“But maybe I don’t have a choice. I love Cord and I don’t
want to lose him. I’ve just got to get my mind clear of this—this—
thing
with Brian. The way he looks at me. The sound of his voice. The things that
draw me back.” She shrugged helplessly. “And maybe that’s the only way I can do
it. I just worry about what will happen if I stay with Cord. Brian doesn’t like
to lose. He’d crush him without sweating a drop.”

“Brian only has as much power as you’re willing to give
him,” Claire reminded her. “You have a good man in your life. Focus on that.
And if Brian pierces your brain again, run over here as fast as you can and
I’ll help get him out of there.”

Impulsively, Fallon hugged her. “What would I do without
you?”

Claire laughed. “Don’t even think of trying to find out. Now
go home to that man of yours before I kick your ass.”

“Okay. But, uh, do you have a pair of shoes I can borrow?”

They looked at each other and laughed, and the edge of Fallon’s
tension eased.

* * * * *

Cord had spent the day in mental turmoil. His lunch with
Jack Torres had given him a lot of unpleasant thoughts to chew on. Imagining
Fallon with a destructive tyrant like Brian Willoughby actually made him sick.
He had to be pretty extreme for the BDSM community to shun him, even put out
warnings about him.

But the man had somehow seduced Fallon into his particularly
brutal brand of D/s relationship, sucking her in until she was trapped. Oh,
Cord knew how it worked. Playing the suave, smooth gentleman at first. A caring
sexual partner. Ramping up the intense erotic pleasure and pain beyond the
bounds of sanity until she reached a point where she craved it.

Fucking with her head. That was how he’d done it. Taking her
to new heights then withholding any pleasure or reward until she was willing to
beg. Driving her to a level of madness until she was completely undone. Even
her very breath would belong to him. She’d put up with anything in exchange for
his approval.

The problem was, Cord had no idea how strong the man’s hold
on her might be. If he’d steadily mind-fucked her, just seeing him could
trigger certain programmed responses. It was obvious from today’s little run-in
that since discovering Fallon again, Brian was on a mission to get her back.
Not because he cared about her. Men like him cared about no one but themselves.
No, he wanted to retrieve his
possession
.

Sometimes Cord needed Fallon to misbehave so he could mete
out the punishments that drove them both to new levels of pleasure and
satisfaction. He could do that now, flog her until they were both exhausted,
leave her tied up until her limbs ached, but he didn’t think that would help
Fallon. He had to take a different tack.

For one thing, he was the polar opposite of Willoughby as
far as Doms were concerned. He didn’t demand complete subjugation. In the
bedroom, yes, always, as well as in certain other aspects of a relationship.
But he admired a woman with a mind of her own, someone he could be proud of for
her accomplishments.

He remembered an attorney he’d known in Dallas. She was all
business in her tailored suits, but lying perfectly against her collarbone was
a flat necklace of hammered gold. At a meeting, as she’d bent to retrieve her
briefcase, Cord was afforded a glimpse of the tiny padlock hooked through a
delicate ring at the front of that necklace, and he recognized it for what it
really was—a collar. He’d wondered what kind of man might be strong enough to
master to a woman so bright and self-assured.

Now he knew, because that was how he saw himself and Fallon.
He’d seen the strong, confident, independent Fallon. He had to appeal to
that
woman. Seduce her with intense desire, make her crave it, so there wouldn’t be
room in her thoughts for anyone else.

Cord would bind her to him with addictive pleasure, putting
the full force of himself as a Dom and all his emotions into it. But also let
her know that she was really the one who set the boundaries. That he’d never
push her beyond what he knew she could accept. If that didn’t work—

Cord gave himself a mental shake. He didn’t want to think
about what would happen in that case. It was becoming more evident to him every
day that Fallon Crowe was as necessary a part of his life as breathing. That he
loved her, deeply and intensely. She was the woman he wanted to spend the rest
of his life with. He’d been trying to advance their relationship in baby steps,
moving slowly, inching toward collaring and wedding vows. He knew there was
something disturbing in her past with Brian. He just hadn’t guessed how ominous
it truly was.

He checked his watch. Five thirty. Time to shower and shave
and set the stage for the evening.

He had just finished filling the tub when he heard her shoes
on the hall floor. Poking his head out of the bathroom, he watched her enter
the bedroom, trying to read her mental state in every line of her body, every
movement. As she dropped her briefcase next to the chair and kicked off her
shoes, he sensed a tightness about her, a sense of strain. But that could just
be his imagination after the tension of the day and the way things had been
lately.