Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel (14 page)

An hour later, Micah holds the safety bar open for me as we exit the Ferris wheel, and mutters, “That was anticlimactic.”

I snort a laugh, raising my voice over the chimes of bells dinging through the air. “Maybe for you. My heart is ready to beat right out of my chest.” I really hate heights.

He chuckles. “How about we stay at ground level then, hmm?”

I nod. “Yes, please.”

He readjusts his baseball cap, then takes my hand into the strength of his, leading us away through the dark, clear night.

We pass the Tilt-a-Whirl and hear screams of joy carrying over the starry sky, when something catches Micah’s eye. He tugs me forward, and soon I’m standing in front of the water race game. He releases my hand and takes out a five-dollar bill from his wallet, slapping it down on the table. “I’m in,” he says.

“Get ready to race,” the carny yells out to no one in particular.

Micah picks up the water gun and grins over his shoulder at me. “Prepare to be wowed.”

I chuckle, loving seeing him this way, and glad my instincts to take him to the carnival were spot-on. There’s a twinkle in his eye, and his smile is a bit brighter than I’ve seen before. And I know why that is. Tonight isn’t about business or someone wanting something from him. It’s just about me and him, and I like it, too. “Okay. I’m ready. Wow me.” I stay back as the carny presses the button starting the game and the creepy clown heads begin moving from left to right.

Micah widens his stance and raises the gun, taking aim. His T-shirt lifts a little, showing off the sexy flesh of his lower back. He’s dressed down in his workout pants, making him messier than usual. I decide I love him a little messy. In fact, I get the feeling he likes himself this way, too. His entire body is lax, like a giant weight of responsibility is lifted off him.

Loud pings begin to echo the ringing and dinging of the game, breaking into my thoughts, and as clowns begin to fall over, I’m shaking my head in amazement. Is there anything this guy isn’t good at?

“Winner,” the carny yells, when every clown is taken out.

I clap my hands and whistle, and Micah drops the gun, taking me into a bold public kiss, as if he’d gone to war and come home missing me. When he breaks the kiss and leans away, I smile at him. “And just where did you learn to shoot like that?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “My father liked to hunt. It’s the one thing we did together.”

Tension creases his eyes whenever he speaks of his father, and while everyone has their own baggage, I can’t imagine ever talking about my parents and not having good memories to mention. My chest tightens at the thought, and even if it’s not my pain, I still feel it.

“Name your prize,” the carny says, waving to the prizes hanging from the ceiling of the booth.

Micah arches a brow at me. “Yours to pick, love.”

“Ooh, lucky me.” I examine the big teddy bears and other stuffed animals. Though none of those compare to what fills my vision. “The cotton candy, please.”

The carny hands me the plastic bag of blue and pink cotton candy, and I spin around to Micah. “Ever tried this?” I ask him.

“No.” He frowns at the plastic bag. “And I’m not sure I want to.”

“Oh, don’t knock it until you try it.” I exhale a long breath, glancing out at the crowd rushing by us. We have ridden every ride, and walked through the park twice and the noise is starting to get to me.

My thoughts must’ve shown on my face, since Micah comments, “It’s loud.”

“Somewhere quieter, then?”

“Yeah, come this way.” He takes my hand and leads me toward the stone pathway behind the Ferris wheel. I’m anticipating a sudden snapping of lights, when a photographer captures Micah and me together. But then I nearly laugh at my own thoughts. No one would expect Micah to be here. I assume Micah himself wouldn’t expect to be here.

We walk for a little bit, silent, hand in hand, as the warm breeze brushes across my face. Up ahead of us, the lights from the Golden Gate Bridge twinkle like stars in the night sky.

Micah stops at one of the benches along the edge of the bay and we sit down, staring out at the quiet water. He drapes his arm across the back of the bench, resting his hand on my shoulder. “So, carnivals are your idea of fun?” he asks.

“Well, it’s one idea of fun.” I cross my legs, snuggling into his side, and open the bag of cotton candy. “You’ve never done anything like this before?”

He accepts the piece of cotton candy I offer him, and I’m watching him intently when he places it into his mouth. He immediately frowns. “That’s disgusting.”

“It is not,” I argue, tossing some into my mouth and moaning in delight when the sugary goodness melts against my tongue. He flinches, recoiling, and forcibly swallows, when I add, “Anyway, go on. You haven’t done anything like this before?”

“The boarding school I went to as a child didn’t venture out to places like this.” His fingers begin trailing over my arm, up and down, bringing a sense of relaxation, not a blaze of passion. Which I admit makes me happy. I like that he can set my body on fire, but I also like that it’s not all he can do to me. I’m warm, comfortable, and I like sitting next to him in a quiet moment together, when he continues, “We visited the wonders of the world and monuments for field trips, and things more educational.”

“Those field trips must have been incredible, though.”

“They were” is his reply.

I note the longing in his voice. And I know that longing well. I remember having it myself when things began to change for me after I moved in with Darius. The constant wonder if you’ve missed out on something in your life. The difference being I made sure I didn’t miss out. I did what
I
wanted, what made
me
happy. I’m beginning to see that Micah never had that option.

I offer him more cotton candy.

He glares at my fingers. “No, one taste was enough.”

I laugh and put the piece in my mouth, watching an elderly couple walking by us, hand in hand, before I turn my attention to Micah again. “Tell me something else I don’t know about you.”

He’s watching the couple too, and only when they fade into the night does he answer me. “If you look just past the bridge, do you see that really bright light by the boat dock?”

I squint my eyes, staring past all the twinkling lights. “I think so.”

“That’s my house.”

“Oh, wow.” Now I’m looking a little harder. I can’t see the house at all from where we sit, but the light from the bridge and his boathouse does show me something. “Is that your boat?”

“Yeah, that’s
Freedom.
”

“Freedom as in a relaxing day out?” I inquire.

“No. That’s her name.”

I get the feeling he doesn’t plan on saying much more on the matter, so I enjoy the quiet between us for now. But I conclude, with his structured life, his boat takes away from a stuffy reality. It makes me wonder even more about the man next to me. It makes me wonder how much he does because he wants to and how much he does because he
has
to and because people expect it of him. It makes me wonder if he’s ever done
this,
just sit and enjoy someone, talking about nothing in particular, not because you have to, but because you can. “Will you take me out on her sometime?” I ask.

A pause.

A long enough pause that I’m now realizing he’s never taken a woman to his house or out on his boat before. My heart rate kicks up a notch, but then he finally answers me. “I would like that.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, which I hide from him, of course.

Leaning my head against his bicep, I devour a few bites of cotton candy, enjoying the easy and comfortable silence between us. I look over at him, watching him stare out at the bay, eyeing a boat drifting by. I’ve met people before who seem to hold the weight of the world on their shoulders—Darius being one of them—but with Micah, it seems like he holds so much more. His gaze is unfocused and so haunted, eyebrows pinching together.

“Are you okay?” I ask gently.

“Tonight has been…” He glances at me, his expression relaxed, eyes so soft. “Tonight has been nice. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome.” I give him a big smile.

Micah has a lot of layers. Complicated, complex, and confusing layers. Yet I’m beginning to see that maybe he wants what I had growing up. A life that’s different than the one he’s got. I wasn’t sure I could give anything to a billionaire who has everything he’d ever want, but finding happiness in the little things is something I can provide him. And maybe, for the first time ever, Micah
feels
what it’s like to be around someone who doesn’t want anything from him but his company. I guess that makes me feel pretty good about
me,
too.

His arm wraps tightly around me, making me feel like nothing would get to me when I’m right
here,
as I stare at the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge reflecting on the water
.
Time begins to tick by as I finish off the cotton candy, but I don’t count the seconds, I enjoy them.

Then, surprising me, he asks, “If I had taken you here for our first date, that would have made you happy?”

“Yup.”

“Hmm,” is his reply.

I angle my head, gazing up at his gorgeous face. “What would make you happy?”

A pause.

“This.” He tangles his free hand with mine. “This makes me happy.”

I stare up at the coffered ceiling, with soft feminine skin surrounding me as the sun is rising in this sky, doing a completely foreign ritual for me. I’ve held Juliet, if she’s needed that from me, after a rough session of sex.
This,
having Allie against me now, however, has nothing to do with duty to a woman and everything to do with the fact that I like a sleepy Allie in my arms. Christ, she’s making me soft.

I’ve welcomed the comfortable silence that’s been between us while we’ve slept on and off throughout the night, but I also don’t mind when Allie’s sweet voice fills the air. “Sometimes do you wish you could stay in a moment forever and never leave?”

She moves out of my arms, grabbing a pillow to put beneath her head, to help her see me better. I notice her flinch in pain and make a mental note to take it easy on her the next time I slide between her thighs. “I didn’t before, but I do now,” I answer honestly. Because
right now
everything seems very simple and uncomplicated between us.

“The world can’t touch us here.” She smiles.

“No, it can’t.” Secrets couldn’t touch us here either.

I drag a finger over her bare shoulder, enjoying the warmth and smoothness of her flesh. My muscles tighten at how she looks into me. Sometimes it feels like she can read right through me. But I don’t want her to dig too deep, so I focus on her. “Tell me: how are you not married?”

The soft light from the bedside table casts over her face, showing the slight arch of her mouth. “Never met the right guy, I guess.”

“I can’t see how that is even possible.” I turn onto my side, facing her. I need to see her expressions; they tell me everything about her. “What about almost the right guy?”

She slides her hands between her cheek and the pillow. “Met him. He married someone else.”

“He broke your heart?” I want to kill him.

“I wouldn’t say that.” She laughs, somehow loosening my tense muscles with the sweet sound, just that easily.

“Then what would you say?”

“I’d say that he was someone I dated in high school and liked a lot until I realized he wasn’t at all what I wanted.” She’s watching me in the way she does, slowly peeling away my shields. “But what about you? Any serious girlfriends in your past?”

“One.”

Her eyes widen, as her head lifts off the pillow. “I admit that I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“You were expecting me to say none?”

“Honestly, yes.” She lowers back down to the pillow, gazing at me with focus. I discover I like surprising her, and smile when she adds, “I’ve never seen any news articles about you having a longtime girlfriend.”

“The relationship happened a long time ago, while I attended Harvard, and long before the tabloids were interested in me. Her name was Clara.” She changed my life, and not in a good way, is what I leave out. “We dated for about two years and I planned to marry her after graduation.”

I see the surprise and genuine curiosity on Allie’s face when she asks, “If it was
that
serious, what happened between you?”

My thoughts go fuzzy and Allie begins to fade away as my mind goes to a place it hasn’t been in so long.

Class ended a half hour ago and I’m finally entering the four-bedroom Beacon Hill home on Garden Street that I share with Gabe in Boston. I drop my books on the table by the door, seeing a pair of shoes that makes me smile.

I hurry up the stairs, taking two at a time. The second I hit the top stair, I stop dead in my tracks, hearing a woman screaming in pleasure. I glance right, seeing Gabe’s bedroom door open, telling me he’s not in his room. Besides, I didn’t see his Audi in the driveway when I came home, so I know it’s not him and some chick he’s picked up and brought home.

My heart rate speeds up as I move farther down the hallway, seeing my bedroom door open, realizing that’s where the woman’s loud moans are coming from. They’re delicious sounds that usually get me off when I’m alone. They’re intense, desperate, but they’re not giving me the hard-on now that they usually do.

I slowly enter my bedroom, seeing the slender brunette—with the stylish bob haircut—sitting at my desk. I can’t see her face as she’s staring at my laptop, watching the woman who’s bound to a table with rope, being taken roughly by the man wearing a black masquerade mask.

I know the video. I jerked off to it last night.

“Clara,” I say.

She gasps, lurching to her feet, spinning around to face me. I can tell the video doesn’t arouse her like it does me. Her eyes are guarded. “Is this what you want to do to me?” she asks.

“I…” I don’t know how to answer her. Clara was a virgin when I met her. I don’t know how she’ll take this. I also don’t want to lie to her.

“Is this what you want to do to me, Micah?” she shouts, fists clenching at her sides.

I wish I could pretend these desires haven’t been filling my mind. But as my soon-to-be fiancée, she needs to know these things about me. She needs to know these videos are what I jerk off to and all I fucking think about, because the sex we have isn’t satisfying enough to me. And maybe…just maybe…she’ll let me touch her in this way. “I would like to do this to you, yes.”

“No, Micah, you can’t want this,” she says, shaking her head. “This is wrong.” Tears rise in her eyes and then begin to flood her face as she wraps her arms around herself, watching as the man in the video begins flogging the woman on the table. “How could you want to hurt me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell her gently. “I want it to be fun. I want you to like it.” I take a step toward her and she steps back, looking at me like I’m a killer a second away from attacking her.

I stay put, not wanting to scare her, as she adds, “How could you do this to me? I told my parents that we were going to get married. It’s why we had sex. You promised we’d be together.”

“I
still
want to be together,” I whisper. “I don’t need this. Forget about it all.” I’m lying. I
do
need this. It’s sex that I’m learning more about because Gabe is involved in a club known to a few elite Harvard students. It’s a club I want to go to. I want to spend my nights surrounded by women in lingerie, who sexually attend to the men there. I want to sit and drink scotch, watching women get flogged, bound, and fucked.

I want to be that guy.

This man I am with Clara, it’s not me.

The woman and the man in the video begin grunting loudly with their orgasms and Clara’s thin face becomes ashen. “I can’t ever forget this. What am I going to tell my parents now?”

“Nothing,” I beg. “You’ll say nothing. They don’t need to know about this. We can put this behind us.” I reach for her.

“No. God, no. Don’t touch me.” She’s backing away from me, eyes wide and distrustful. “You’re disgusting. You want to hurt women, Micah. I don’t even know you. You’ve ruined me.” She’s screaming at me now and I can’t even look at her, shame holding me to the spot. “You’ve ruined my life!”

I blink into the present, seeing Allie’s eyes focused directly on me, awaiting my answer. I want to tell her these truthful things about my past, but I can’t. My shame is mine to bear and I don’t want Allie anywhere near it. There are reasons I keep my dark desires hidden from those who can’t handle them and only partake in consensual kinky sex with women who love that type of sex themselves. It protects them from
me.

“What happened between us?” I repeat Allie’s question, feeling heaviness forming in my chest, emotion rising that I cannot stand. She nods, and I swallow against the thickness in my throat. “We weren’t meant to be.”

Allie’s watching me in that intense way she does, like she
knows
I’m hiding things from her, like she sees parts of myself that I wish she wouldn’t. She finally breaks eye contact and blinks. “Do you still talk to Clara?” she asks.

I’m trying not to notice how the blanket slides off Allie’s back when she moves a little closer toward me, showing off a long, smooth spine that I want to kiss. She makes it hard for me. Because there’s something inside me now clawing to get out. Hot flashes rush across me, as the weight on my chest is getting heavier. “Sadly, Clara passed away.”

Allie’s fingers find mine under the pillow, squeezing tight. “Gosh, that’s so sad. She must have been young.” I nod in conformation, and Allie’s eyes are searching mine. “I’m sorry you lost her.”

I reach out and stroke Allie’s cheek, despite the pain beginning to strangle my throat.
Tighter…and tighter.
Her kindness is infectious. The sweetness about her, the innocence of a life not shattered by darkness, it all draws me to her. I want to taste this life she’s offering. It’s a life I don’t know. Because this is what I need. Her light. Her warmth. A place away from the darkness that threatens to invade me, and that I’m fighting so hard to keep away from her.

I’m not sure what she’s seeing on my face, but she’s leaning into me, moving closer. It’s so dangerous for her and she doesn’t even know it. I shut my eyes and let her kiss me in the way she wants to kiss me. Our mouths move gently together and each second that passes, I’m not thinking of
her,
I’m thinking of slowing down my heart rate and focusing on my breathing. I want to forget Clara. I want to forget the pain. I want to forget it all and become lost in Allie.

I keep my eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling deeply through my nose, while she moves away. I hear a wrapper being opened and then feel her applying the condom over my rock-hard cock.
Thump, thump, thump…
My heart is hammering in my ears, my breathing is so very deep. I can’t open my eyes to her in fear I’ll see her innocence and want to absorb it all for myself. In fear that I’ll grab her, fuck her until she can’t move, until her body is
used
by me, until I can’t
feel
again.

A slow slide of heat burns across me as Allie straddles me, resting her hands on my chest, taking me deep inside her.
Warm. Wet. Perfect.
I clench my fists at my sides, fighting off the urges slamming into my body to overpower her. She’s thrusting slowly against me, riding me gently, lovingly.

I reach for her hips, trying to slow her down. She’s sore, I remind myself. But she’s not listening to me. She grabs my wrists, prompting me to reopen my eyes, and pins my hands to my chest, shifting her hips, faster and faster. Her round breasts are bouncing in my line of vision; her sexy body all mine to watch, while she moves back and forth,
faster…and faster…and faster.

Her moans are louder now and closer together, and I’m fighting my orgasm, because I need more from her to sedate me. This isn’t about sexual satisfaction for me, it’s about a release. It’s about shedding the emotion invading every crevice of my body. I need her to scream. I need her to lose her fucking mind. I
need
to
forget.
Her head tilts back and she’s taking her pleasure, and all I can do is watch her, too afraid that if I take control, I will dominate every part of her mind, body, and soul. That I will
use
her to fix me, and I can’t do that. Not to her.

But now I’m losing myself to pleasure with each quick shift of her hips. I yank my hands from beneath hers and grasps her breasts. “Yes,” I grunt, as she rubs her hips, back and forth against me. “Yes. Come on.” I grit my teeth, encouraging her to move faster.

“Oh, God…” She’s pumping her hips, back and forth now,
faster…and faster.
I grip her hips, helping her shift quickly over me, my cock throbbing deep inside her. “Ooooh…” she gasps, her mouth falling open.

Then she’s roaring her pleasure, arching her back. Her round breasts and taut nipples fill my vision. Her tight pussy clamps down on my shaft, while she’s quivering and gyrating on top of me.

I can’t come with her, not yet. I need
more.

Slowly, she’s recovering, moving up and down now, opening her sated eyes to me. Her warm wetness is sliding over me, and I’m moaning in gratitude, while she’s breathless on top of me. I massage her breasts, focusing on her nipples, and running my hand down to her clit, circling the bud. She begins to bounce on me again and I assist her to move harder; loud slaps of skin fill the air, along with the musky aroma of our sex.

“So good,” I growl against the warm touches of pleasure washing through me. I tighten my buttocks, pushing my cock deeper, and I see the widening of her eyes and the building flush across her chest.

“More,” she gasps. Then she’s no longer shifting up and down, but sliding over me, back and forth, in the way I’m learning she does to bring herself to orgasm. “Please.” She’s panting deliciously now, moving so damn fast. “More. More. Please.” I’m moaning alongside her, because somehow she’s even tighter than before, and even wetter, and she’s bringing herself to another orgasm like a fucking pro.

Her entire body is a shaking mess of satisfaction when I grab her, bringing her chest to mine, tucking her head into my neck. I shift my hips up into her, pumping my cock all the way inside her, and soon she’s matching my speed, our hips moving together in a steady rhythm. I dig my fingers into the sweaty flesh of her hips, lifting her up, then thrusting her down on my throbbing dick. Her lips somehow find mine and our kiss is messy; it’s sexy; it’s perfect. She cups the side of my face, holding on to me like she controls me. And in this moment, she does.

She fucking owns me.

My grunts are unstoppable now, mirroring her raspy moans. Sweat is sliding deliciously over her body and rubbing against mine, when she rises up, returning to offer me a view of her great bouncing tits, when she grinds herself against me.

“Again. More.” She pinches her eyes shut, hands resting on my chest. “Please.” I grasp her hips tight, stopping myself from smacking her round ass, bringing her even higher than she can take herself. “Yes. Oh, God…” She’s screaming now and her cunt is squeezing my shaft in a vise grip.

I can’t even touch her anymore, because I’m clenching my fists at my sides, as her G-spot orgasm drenches me with warm arousal, and I’m becoming damn near cross-eyed, unable to ignore my needs any longer. My semen explodes out of me, and I’m bucking and jerking beneath her, roaring out my pleasure.