Bound to the Bad Boy (8 page)

“I’m going to stop the nipple
clamps now. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She was stunned by the
extreme pleasure that she had just experienced. Her connection with Matt was
overwhelming. He had known her as a girl then as a young woman. He had been her
first and initiated her into a whole new realm of sexual adventure. But the way
she felt about him was more than just physical. So why had she abandoned him?
Why hadn’t she believed that he was innocent when he had been accused of an act
so awful that he’d been sent to prison?

Could she ever forgive herself
for turning her back on him? Furthermore, would he ever be able to forgive her?

Matt was no angel, it was true.
He had been a bad boy. He didn’t play by society’s rules in many areas of his
life. At one point, that hadn’t mattered to Megan.
Hadn’t
mattered at all.
But when she had gone away to college, she had seen
another way of life.
A life where people did play by the
rules and avoid trouble and conflict.
Yet that type of life didn’t
always work out either. Matt and his motorcycle club, they looked out for one
another.
Looked out for their women and their families.

And Matt had always looked out
for her.

She trembled all over. Partly
from the intensity of her explosion, partly from cold as the perspiration dried
on her skin and partly from distress as the painful thoughts crept back in.

What was it that she so feared?
Not being
normal
? Not living life on
the straight and narrow?

Perhaps.

But she suspected, deep down,
that it was more than that. She feared her own heart.
Feared
being so deeply and madly in love with Matt.
She knew that he
experienced a lot of female attention. Although she had seen him literally swat
the hangers-on away like flies when they’d been together. She didn’t believe,
really, that he had ever cheated.

But he could.

And there was the way that the
Night Warriors had always attracted police attention. The local force was
always looking for ways to pin crimes on the motorcycle club. Even with all
that the bikers did for Cherub. What had happened with Matt was a perfect
example. Yet, part of her mind nagged at her. What if, that one time, he
had
been guilty? It was too awful to contemplate.
His lawyer had managed to get him off after he’d served six months and Megan
suspected that he had filed a plea that there wasn’t sufficient evidence that
Matt had committed the crime. That he’d been set up. Or had there been
something else, some other evidence perhaps, which had emerged and proved his
innocence?

No smoke without fire…

Ironic use of
that imagery.
It had, after all, been a fire that had killed the high
school janitor.

Where was the relaxing
post-orgasmic glow? The trouble
was,
that with Matt
everything was always so intense that it sent her hurtling into emotional
turmoil. It was as if the physical stimulation and climactic explosion brought
other things to the surface, leaving her dazed and confused, battling long
buried parts of
herself
. It could be exhausting but it
could also be so refreshing and so rewarding. If she could just surrender to it
all and accept it as it was.
Stop
fighting. Stop questioning. Just be.

“Megan?” Matt broke into her
thoughts and she blinked hard, trying to banish the unsteadying images that
coursed through her brain.

“Yes, Master?”

“I’m going to release you now.”

He removed the cuffs and helped
her sit up. He rubbed her wrists and arms, soothing the tingling as the blood
rushed back in.
So tender.
So attentive.
And he hadn’t even had any relief himself.

“Are you ready for me to remove
the clamps?”

“I…I think so.” Megan recalled
this part of using nipple clamps with sudden clarity. It was often worse that
having them put on.

“Ready?”

“I guess so.”

Matt released her left nipple and
she cried out as it throbbed. He took the tender nub into his mouth and laved
it with his hot tongue, easing away the ache. He repeated the process with the
other one, careful to ease Megan’s discomfort. When the pain had receded, she
lifted her arms and stretched them above her head. She ran her hands through
her thick auburn hair and pushed it behind her ears.

“Thank you, Master.” She looked
down at the floor.

Matt placed a finger beneath her
chin and tilted her head so that she met his eyes.

“It’s good to see you again,
Megan. I really missed you.”

She smiled as he enveloped her in
his arms and she rested her head against his strong chest.

“I have missed you too, Master.”
More than I care to admit.

Chapter Five

Megan stirred in the large bed in
the grey light of dawn. She blinked. For a moment she was disoriented.

Then it all came flooding back.

The reunion.
Seeing Matt.
Coming back to his
grand house on the back of his motorcycle, just like when they were teenagers.
Being given the grand tour.
Their
play in the kitchen.

And then…

Then they had shared a meal and a
bottle of wine. Keeping the topics light, they had talked about old times, the good
times before she went to college and the fun they had enjoyed. When Megan had
checked the time, it was past 2:00 a.m. and she had panicked. She needed to get
back to her hotel. The small establishment was run by a local family and no
doubt she would have given them something to gossip about. But she had been out
for the night at the reunion and she suspected that lots of singletons in town
for the event might well have shared a bed with an old flame.

Or was it just her? Was she still
different, even after all these years? Was she still a fool, led by her wayward
heart and her needy pussy?

She turned onto her side and gazed
in awe at the beauty of the man beside her. Matt lay on his back, his arms
flung above his head, his face peaceful in sleep. His dark hair was messy and
his face now bore a fine shading of stubble. His full, wide lips were slightly
parted. The sheets covered only the lower half of his body, so she was able to
gaze at his shoulders, his chest,
the
deep square
lines of his stomach. In all of her imaginings, she had never perfectly
captured his raw male splendor. He was perfect.
Gorgeous.
And it hurt her to look at him because she realized how much she wanted him.
Still cared for him.

Still love him.

No! You cannot go back there.

She perused his ink. His
shoulders were covered in a complex web of skulls, motorcycles and symbols. The
justice scales adorned the shoulder closest to her, featuring a blindfolded
Statue of Liberty at their center. His right pectoral muscle bore an eagle clutching
a banner that read
Live Free…Ride Free
.
Over his heart was an American flag, proud and colorful, displaying Matt’s patriotic
nature: The love for his country, which sometimes conflicted with his
disappointment, in certain elements of
society.
Matt
had always had strong beliefs about right and wrong and it was one of the
things about him that Megan had loved. But it was also one of the things that
sometimes got him into trouble. In school, in Cherub and when he was on the
road with the Night Warriors.

Unable to resist any longer,
Megan ran a finger gently along his black brows. They were shiny and curved,
perfect frames for his chocolate brown eyes. His ebony eyelashes fluttered and
his lips curled into a smile. Was he dreaming about her right now? Or did he
dream of the freedom of the freeway, racing along on his motorbike with the wind
rushing past and his leathers warmed by the sun? She was overcome with emotion
as she thought of how hard it must have been for him in prison, unable to ride
his beloved Harley, locked behind bars that prevented him roaming the free
spaces of the USA.

She stroked his strong jawline
and his thick neck with its prominent Adam’s apple, then the hollow at his
throat. Tears threatened. In their four years apart he had only grown more
attractive. The move out of his mid-twenties had honed his features just as his
workouts had honed his muscles. Always busy, always somewhere doing something.
That was the Matt she remembered. He never stopped. And perhaps that was one of
the things that she had worried about. What if he was trying to fill some void
in his life?
Or hadn’t been able to sit still with her
because she wasn’t enough.

That was it.

Her own addiction to him had
terrified her when she went away to college and wondered how she would cope
without him. But she had also struggled with the thought that maybe, if not
then, but one day, he would turn around and tell her that he needed more. He
needed an old lady and a sub who could offer him far more than she could. It
hadn’t been that he didn’t make her feel loved and secure, because he had. But
her own insecurities and self-doubts mingled with her growing awareness of
exactly how much she needed this man had swamped her like a huge wet cobweb, which
she could not extricate herself from. When Matt had been sent down, it had
given her the perfect excuse to tell herself that she did in fact want to lead
a ‘normal’ life. To be with a man who didn’t get stopped regularly by the cops
or have to drop everything to rush to the side of a biker buddy in need.

So she had broken it off. Cut her
ties to the bad boy. Severed all links, except for those that still hung around
in her heart, floating like a jellyfish’s tentacles, stinging and deadly
reminders of what she had lost.

As she caressed Matt’s chest,
tracing the patterns of his ink, he suddenly caught her wrist with his hand and
stared at her. Megan’s heart thudded like a drum and her pussy creamed at the
mischief in his sleepy eyes. She yearned to fling her leg over him and lower
herself onto his morning erection then ride him until he felt his hot seed fill
her body.

“Well, good morning.” He turned
onto his side and took hold of her other wrist before stretching her arms above
her head and moving over her. His hard cock brushed against her naked pussy and
she moaned.

“Good morning, Master.”

“How did you sleep?”

Megan pondered the question. She
had slept very well.
Better than she’d slept in a long, long
time.
It must have been due to the intensity of her pleasure during
their play and the delicious wine.
A heady combination.
Matt moved his body so that his erection tickled her clit. He was so hard, so
big, and so ready for her.

“I slept soundly, Master.”

Please fuck me now.

“You did. I know it because…” He
grinned and his brown eyes crinkled endearingly at the corners. “You did some
of your cute little piglet snores.”

“I did not!” Megan wriggled
beneath him in protest.

He nodded. “Just like always.
Some things never change.”

Megan laughed. He had always
claimed that she snored when she was really relaxed. Not like a loud,
unpleasant foghorn but sweet little noises like a suckling pig. It had been one
of their shared jokes and one he used to tease her to the point of feigned
indignation.

“Master?”

“Sub?”

“What are we doing?”

A frown darkened his face and he
shifted so that his thick cock stopped probing her pussy.

Damn. You’ve destroyed the moment.

“I hoped you would come back one
day, Megan.”
Using her name now, not her title.
More serious.

“You did?”

“It hurt me so much when you left
but I knew that I had to let you go. It wouldn’t have been fair to keep you
here…if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

Megan took a steadying breath.
Could she really ask the question that had raced through her head since she’d
received the invitation to the reunion?
If
I go back…and see him again…what will happen? What will it mean?

“And now, Matt?
What about now?”

It was out. But did she want to
hear the answer?

“And now…” He stared at her. His
pupils dilated and Megan felt herself being dragged into their endless depths.
Matt was dark and deep. She had thought that she understood him, that she knew
him well.
But if he had committed that awful crime, then she
hadn’t really known him at all.
“Now I’m real glad to see you.”

Real glad to see you?
Was that
it? Did he not have feelings other than that, which he needed to share with
her? Did he want her to stay or to go? Was this just a bit of fun for him? Was
he now too busy with the hangers on who swarmed the clubhouse like greedy
little ants all desperate for a crumb from the high table?

“How long are you in town?”

She chewed her lip as she thought
about it. She had a week off work and had booked the hotel room for four
nights. She had told herself that she only intended on staying for one week but
now she knew that she had hoped to remain in Cherub for a while longer.

“I’m here for a few days. There
are things I want to do…like visit the old cabin...check out my old home.”

Matt nodded. “It’s been empty
since your folks left. I’ll bet it’s pretty run down now.”

“I know. But I wanted to see the
old place again.” The hut and grounds where she’d spent her childhood.
Where she had taken Matt when they began dating.
Where she
had been when life was sweet and young and seemed full of potential.
When anything seemed possible.
She wanted to go back there
just to see if she could recapture some of that feeling.
Even
if it was sentimental and foolish.
You couldn’t go back, only forwards.
Right?