Dangerously Bound (24 page)

Fuck.

He did. He loved her. Always had. Still did. Always would.

But . . . it was too soon to tell her. They needed to spend some time simply being
together. See where it took them. Get to know each other all over again, like they’d
talked about.

They had all the time in the world now, didn’t they?

The water was growing cooler. He shut the shower off and reached out to grab a thick,
white towel from the rack, pulled it into the shower with them and wrapped Allie up
in it before he stepped out and found another rolled up in a basket on the floor for
himself. He slung it around his waist, helped her step out onto the white bath mat
and dried her carefully: her slender arms, her long legs, the sleek curve of her shoulders,
the rounder curves of her beautiful breasts. She stood quietly, letting him do it
while the steam wrapped around them, keeping them as warm as the soft New Orleans
air.

He slipped the towel between her legs to dry her there and she pulled in a small,
gasping breath. Their eyes met. She smiled, stood up on her toes to kiss him and reached
down to grasp his
cock in her hand. Two long strokes was all it took. He grew rock-hard in an instant,
tearing the towel from his waist with one hand while with the other he drew her in
tight. He grabbed her and sat her on the edge of the tiled counter and spread her
thighs. Her legs wound around him.

“Yes, Mick. Come on.” She reached between them, taking his cock in her soft hand again,
her fingers feathering over the head.

He groaned, arching his hip into her fisted palm a few times, pleasure simmering low
in his belly, making his cock pulse already. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

“Hey.”

“Shh.”

He quieted her by covering her lips with his, kissing her hard, his tongue forging
into her mouth even as the split in his lip stung. She kissed him back hungrily, eating
up his mouth. He was so fucking hard he couldn’t wait.

He grabbed her ass, raising her hips, and plunged into her.

Christ, she was all hot, sleek silk inside, wet and ready for him, taking him all.

She moaned, her head against his mouth. “Fuck me, Mick,” she whispered. “I need you
to. I . . . need you.”

They were bucking into each other, and he reached between them to work her clit with
his hand. In moments she was coming, her hot sex clenching around him as she called
his name. Then he was coming and his voice was a howl. The world went black, his orgasm
ripping through him, ripping his heart out and serving it to her on a platter.

Allie.

His.

Together.

He latched on to her neck, bit into her, licked at her skin, then kissed her as his
body calmed.

He saw he’d left more teeth marks on her. But she didn’t mind. And he didn’t mind
that he’d marked her, made her his in some tangible way.

Some distant part of him realized he was lost. Lost to her.

Didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that Allie—his Allie girl—belonged to him. Finally.

*   *   *

S
HE WAS AWAKE
but didn’t want to open her eyes in case she’d imagined that Mick was there with
her, that everything would be okay. But in moments she realized the weight on her
stomach was his strong arm flung across her body. Still without opening her eyes,
she reached down and linked her fingers with his, smiling.

“You happy, baby?”

She opened her eyes to find Mick looking at her, his gray eyes clear as crystals in
the soft morning light. “You’re up.”

“Well, I’m awake. Not up yet, but I’m sure we can take care of that in about . . .
three seconds.”

He kissed her shoulder, then slid his hand over her stomach and between her thighs.
“Ah, already wet for me, baby girl. And now I’m up.”

She giggled. She couldn’t help it. Heat shimmered through her when he teased her hardening
clitoris. “And what are you going to do about that?”

“Anything I want. Isn’t that right?” He stroked her damp slit, pressed a fingertip
inside her, making her groan.

“Yes, Sir.”

He pulled his hand away.

“So . . . the first thing I want . . . need to do is to ask if you’re on some kind
of birth control, since I was too carried away to remember to use a condom. And just
so you know, that has never happened to me before.”

“I always practice safe sex unless I’m with a long-term partner. But yes, I’m on the
pill. And we’ve seen each other’s paperwork. God, you really know how to kill the
mood, Mick.”

“On the contrary.” He threw back the covers and she saw his glorious erection. “I’m
as hard for you as I was five minutes ago.”

“See? So kinky.”

“Are you going to try to tell me you’re not?” he challenged her.

“Not what? Kinky? Or still hot for you?”

He spread her thighs wide with his hand, pressed his fingers against her opening.
They slid right in and she moaned, desire making a tight knot in her belly.

“Question number two answered. Let’s see about question number one.”

He scooted up until his back was against the pillows, and she watched him, wondering
what he had in mind. But before she could figure it out, he grabbed her and flipped
her facedown and naked on his lap.

“Mick, wait.”

“Nope. This is a test of your kinkability, baby. Now be quiet while I do horrible
things to your delicious ass.”

He smacked one cheek hard enough to make her yelp.

“Quiet, now,” he ordered.

“I can’t!”

He smacked the other cheek just as hard.

“Oh!”

“If you can’t stay quiet, then I’m going to have to make you count.”

“Jesus, Mick.” She laid her head down on the cool sheets and waited.

He gave her a good hard slap. Her ass stung like mad. “That’s an extra one for you
sassing me. Now count.”

He smacked her cheek and she had to work to convert the pain to pleasure. Before she
had a chance to do that, he smacked the other cheek.

“You’re not counting.”

“Two.”

“Nope. That was one. The second one was to remind you.”

She bit her lip.

“Good girl.”

Another hard slap.

“Two.”

And another.

“Three,” she said breathlessly. It was really beginning to hurt as he layered sensation
over her tender skin.

She heard him pull in a breath, and his hand came down again, catching both ass cheeks,
right in the center.

“Oh! Four.”

The next few came in such rapid succession she squirmed in his lap.

“Oh no you don’t, princess. You’re not going anywhere.” He held her down with one
hand on the small of her back. “How many is that?”

“Five, six and seven, damn it.”

“Excellent.”

“Fucking sadist,” she muttered.

He smacked her hard, the pain reverberating through her entire body.

“Ouch! Fuck, Mick! I suppose that one didn’t count?”

“It sure as hell didn’t. How many more do you think I’ve got for you?”

“Hundreds, I’m sure.”

He chuckled, slipped a hand between her thighs, found her sex wet with wanting. “You
don’t seem to mind. Which I love about you, baby girl. And I know you can take a few
more.”

He slapped her ass over and over—she had a hard time keeping up with the count.

“Eight, nine . . . eleven,” she gasped. “I think. Ah! Twelve?” She was panting, squirming
hard in his lap, her hip coming up against his hard cock.

“Ten. You’re bad at math, baby,” he teased.

“I am not. It was twelve.” She kicked her feet, squirmed again. She was loving every
minute of this delicious torture.

“Still,” he ordered. She complied, her body going loose at the mere tone of his voice.

He spread her thighs apart, pressed his fingers into her aching sex and began to pump.

“Mmm . . .”

He slipped them out and smacked her ass again, really hard this time. But the pleasure
he’d given her allowed her to ride the pain out.

“What’s the count, baby?”

“Thirteen.”

“Ah, unlucky number thirteen. But you know, it’s lucky for some of us. It’s lucky
for you today. And lucky for me.”

He lifted her and positioned her so she was on her hands and knees on the bed, and
he came up behind her and grasped her hips.

“I am going to fuck you so damn hard, Allie girl. And you’re going to come and come
until you scream.”

She hung her head, loving the sensation of yielding he’d created in her flesh, her
mind.

She felt the heat of his body as he rocked his hips forward, even the fine hairs on
his thighs abrading the hot, tender skin from the spanking. But she loved it. Loved
it even more when he surged into her an inch at a time, holding her still with firm
hands, not letting her ease back onto his cock.

Finally, slowly, he buried himself deep in her pussy.

She let out a soft sigh of pure pleasure at being filled by him.

“Shh, hold still for me, baby.”

He reached around her and filled his hands with her breasts, kneading the full flesh.
She wanted to arch into his touch, but she knew to follow instructions. She bit her
lip. Waited while pleasure suffused her, making her go warm and weak all over.

Finally he took her stiff nipples between his fingers and pinched, tugged, sensation
a keen edge in her body, making her moan aloud. Making her arch her neck, her head
coming up. He pinched harder, bringing pain sharply into the mix.

“Ah!”

Still holding her nipples firmly between his fingers, he used his strong forearms
to bring her body up until she was almost sitting up on her knees, his cock still
deep inside her. And slowly he began to fuck her.

“Ah, God, Mick . . .”

His thick cock slid in and out, in this position easily hitting her G-spot, and pleasure
built quickly, a deep, thrumming rhythm. His cock and his hard, pinching fingers on
her nipples causing sensation everywhere—thrilling, dazzling. Even better when he
bit into her shoulder, his teeth sinking deep while his tongue swirled over her skin.

Her mind was spinning, out of control, pleasure and pain all one thing. He fucked
her harder, his cock jackhammering into
her, making her gasp with each punishing stroke. His hands wrapped around her breasts,
pressing hard, hurting her. Making her dizzy with the desire for
more
.

He bit her harder. She felt his body tense and knew he was ready to come. And at that
moment he reached down to pinch her clit, using his nails to bite hard into the sensitive
flesh.

“Ah, God!”

It fucking hurt. But she was coming and coming, her hips arching into his hurting
touch, back to take his big cock in deep. He was growling, panting, his teeth sinking
deeper. And she was coming so damn hard the coming itself was painful, the pleasure
almost too much to take. He fucked her harder, slamming into her, and she was drowning
in the heat of his body, his scent filling her head as her climax crashed over her
again and again.

“Ahhhhhh! Mick!”

“Baby, baby . . .”

They collapsed on the bed together. He was still inside her, still hard even though
she knew he’d come. They lay on their sides, his taut stomach pressed against her
back, his arms still around her. They were both slick with sweat. Lovely, that slippery
friction of damp skin against damp skin. He slung one leg over her hip and pushed
in and out of her almost lazily, his slowly softening cock causing small frissons
of orgasm to shiver through her.

“Oh, that’s good,” she murmured, locking her fingers with his. He held on tight, brought
their clasped hands up to her chest and nestled them between her breasts.

“I can feel your heart pounding,” he whispered into her hair. “So is mine.”

“I can feel it against my back,” she told him, “I can feel your heartbeat echoing
all the way up my spine.”

They were quiet for a long time, simply relaxing, trying to catch their breath.

Finally he said, “This is it, you know. This is what I want.”

Her heart surged at hearing him say it. She’d thought that was what he’d meant when
they’d talked the night before. But the confirmation was lovely to hear. She’d needed
to hear it. “Me, too.”

He slipped out of her and rolled her over then, pulling her in close to his big body.
He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her. He was watching her again,
searching her face.

“What is it, Mick?”

He shook his head, leaned in and kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck, her shoulder.
He was being so tender with her, so sweet it made her heart thump, her stomach flutter.
Her nerves sang with the one truth she had known almost her whole life.

She loved him.

She nearly said the words. But she didn’t want anything to ruin this moment. She didn’t
want to risk chasing him off with too much, too soon.

Instead she reached to trace the scar on his ribs. He flinched for a moment, but she
looked up into his eyes and said quietly, “Let me, Mick. Share this with me. It’s
a part of you.”

“It’s an ugly part.”

She shook her head. “It’s still you. It’s one of your life’s stories. It’s one you’ve
never shared with me.”

“It’s one I’d rather not talk to anyone about.”

“This is
me
, Mick. Tell me. Please. It’s part of that transparency, right? How can we be together
in the BDSM realm if I don’t know you as well as you know me? How can we have that
ultimate connection—the power exchange—that’s so much a part of BDSM relationships
if it’s not an
exchange
? I want that with you.”

He shook his head again and she thought he would argue. But after a few moments he
said, “You’re right. But only because it
is
you, Allie.” He paused, ran a hand over his jaw, his eyes going dark and a little
stormy. “Okay. I’ll tell you.”

M
ICK SMOOTHED A
hand over her stomach, taking the heat of her body into his palm, his fingertips.
He concentrated on that sensation for several long moments while he tried to get his
head together, his thoughts organized.

“Okay.” He took in a deep breath. “So . . . when I went away to Louisiana State in
Baton Rouge, I sold all my older, crappy bikes I’d worked on and rebuilt through high
school and got the new Yamaha. I loved that bike. It was fast. Beautiful. All shining
chrome, and I swear that thing purred at me when I really opened her up.”

“Jamie mentioned it a time or two when I saw him after you left.”

“Did he also mention I liked to drive too fast?”

She shrugged. “I already knew that. Anyway, Jamie and his muscle cars . . . he was
nineteen, too. I doubt he even noticed.”

“Yeah, probably true.”

She laid a hand on his chest. “So, what happened, Mick?” she asked softly.

He focused again on the heat of her touch, using it to calm him. He did not want to
talk about this. But it was Allie, and he would do it for her. “Motorcycles are tricky
things. Especially when someone too young and arrogant thinks he’s in control of that
kind of machine. All it takes is one pebble on the road. One moment where you don’t
let out the clutch just right taking a turn, or you’re not focused enough on what’s
right in front of you. That’s what happened, I guess. I wasn’t focused, wasn’t paying
enough attention. Wasn’t giving the bike and the speed the respect those things deserve.

“I don’t even know exactly what happened, as stupid as that sounds. It
was
stupid. Totally irresponsible. I woke up in the hospital and they told me I’d wrapped
my bike around an old oak tree in someone’s front yard. In the middle of the Goddamn
day. Could have been someone’s kid out there, you know?” His chest pulled tight. It
wasn’t any easier to say it now, even after all the years that had passed. It felt
like the damn words were choking him. He could barely stand to look at her while he
said these things. “Thank God it was just my reckless, idiotic ass out there. But
I couldn’t stop thinking about it—that I could have hit someone. I could have fucking
killed someone. It’s still there in the back of my mind. It’s always there.”

“You can’t do that to yourself, Mick.”

“No? How can I not hold myself accountable? For what happened. For what could have
happened. Especially after Brandon. We all saw firsthand what that did to his parents,
to Summer. To all of us—his friends—especially Jamie. I knew better. Or, I should
have. And Allie, I come from a family of men who
care for the people of our community. Not only did I take a stupid-ass risk with other
people’s lives, I took away my own . . . shit. It sounds selfish as hell to even mention
it.”

“What?” she asked, her tone gentle. “Tell me.”

He looked away, shook his head, but he went on, his blood pounding in his temples.
“I took away my chance to . . . my
ability
to serve this city the same way my family has for generations. That accident ate
a part of my soul. A part I’ll never get back.”

“Oh, Mick.”

He flinched. “Ah, stop it, Allie. I can’t take anyone’s pity and you know it.”

He felt her fingertips soft on his cheek, and he allowed her to turn his face back
to hers. Her brown eyes were sheened with tears, gleaming golden in the misty morning
light.

“This is
me
, Mick. You know it’s not pity, that hearing you say it makes my heart break for you.
To know you’ve carried that kind of guilt all this time. But I’ve never pitied you.
I thought you were just mad.”

“Oh, I’m mad. I’m pissed as hell at myself.”

“I don’t blame you. I’d probably feel the same way. I
know
I would. But Mick, at some point you’ve got to let it go.”

“Do I? Or more to the point, should I?”

She tilted her chin, her brows drawing together. “I don’t understand.”

“The guilt is nothing less than I deserve, Allie. It’s my burden to carry with me.”

“But you didn’t hurt anyone else,” she protested.

“That’s not true. Every single day I’m not a firefighter like I should have been,
like my family and my city had a right to expect of me, I hurt someone. Every day
there’s one less man on the force to protect people.”

She shook her head. “That’s not realistic, Mick. You can’t blame yourself for things
you
might
have been able to prevent. And you have found a way to protect people. Your security
business—”

“I work boxing matches and rock concerts. I protect drunken fools from other drunken
fools. It’s not the same thing.”

“It’s something, Mick,” she said quietly, maybe understanding that he simply wasn’t
able to hear it, no matter how she put it.

“Yeah. Something.” He shrugged.

“Thank you for telling me. Even when you didn’t want to. Especially because you didn’t
want to.”

But he
had
wanted to. That was the strange thing. Or maybe the strange thing was that they were
there together, in her bed, naked. Strange that it had finally happened, the two of
them together again.

A part of him felt like it was fate. Another part still believed she was too damn
good for him.

He had to shake that shit off.

He lifted her hand, kissed it, shifted the gears in his head.

“Enough of this. I’m taking you out to breakfast.” He silently thanked God for the
male ability to compartmentalize. “Get your gorgeous ass in the shower and get clean
while I make some coffee for the road.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She was smiling at him, going along with the game. Good girl.

She was a good girl. The best. More than he deserved. But he was done trying to convince
her of that. She’d chosen him. And he wasn’t that stupid anymore. He wasn’t letting
her go again.

*   *   *

L
ESS THAN AN
hour later they had made their way uptown along St. Charles Avenue to The Camellia
Grill, one of the best
breakfast spots in the city. It was the usual packed Sunday morning. They stood together
on the sidewalk in front of the old colonial structure, with its white columns and
dark green shutters, another of the city’s local landmarks to resurrect after Katrina.

It felt strange to be out with Allie, doing this kind of normal thing like going to
breakfast. They’d been to this place a dozen times as teenagers, and it took him back.
Him in his ever-present leather jacket. Allie’s long hair shining in the sun, her
laughing with him. Everything had seemed a lot simpler then. So much less at stake.
But wasn’t that always the difference between being a teenager—just a kid, really—and
being an adult? Yeah, a hell of a lot more at stake now.

Don’t trip on it. Just enjoy the day.

What had happened to the compartmentalizing he’d been so good at only a little while
ago? Hell, he’d had years of practice at shutting things down. He knew it was Allie
that was making things harder to keep under control. And control had been the key
to managing his life since those days . . . the days before his life had come crashing
down around him piece by piece. Brandon’s death. Seeing Jamie’s reaction—his grief
going way beyond what the rest of them had experienced. Coming to terms with the fact
that he had to leave Allie behind when he went away to college. That one night when
he’d seen her again. When he’d done those things to her. The way he’d felt the next
morning, as if he’d fucking murdered someone . . . and the damn accident that he swore
was not a death wish.

“Mick? You look like a cloud just passed over your grave. What are you thinking about?”

“What? Sorry, princess. Just woolgathering.”

“You are so not the kind of man to mingle with sheep,” she teased.

He had to smile. “Nope. Subbie girl though you may be, you’re definitely not the sheep
type.”

She laughed, and some of the ice that had been running through his veins melted. “You’ve
got that right. God, I can’t remember the last time I ate here.”

“The last weekend in May, my senior year. Jamie and I were cutting school, which was
our right as seniors, and you were playing delinquent with us.”

“I can’t believe you remember all that.”

He reached out and tucked a long strand of her dark, silky hair behind her ear. “You
were wearing a cotton sundress with tiny pink roses all over it. They were the same
shade as your lips.”

Her smile widened, her eyes shining. “You’re a romantic at heart, you know that, Mick
Reid?”

“Never.”

She slunk up against him. “Always.”

He grabbed her by the waist and bent to brush a kiss across her lush mouth. “If I
agree with you, will it get me some later?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Her voice was a quiet purr. “You buy me breakfast and
you are so getting laid.”

“Am I, now?”

“Yep. Sir. Yep, Sir.”

He laughed and picked her up until her feet left the ground.

“Hey!”

He set her back down, took her hand and kissed it, held it tightly in his.

If he could just keep the bullshit from invading his brain, this might turn out to
be a perfect day. A perfect life.

Gotta take it one day at a time.

That was the smart thing to do, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

*   *   *

T
HEY WERE FINALLY
seated at the long counter facing the gleaming steel kitchen, the only seating there
was at the crowded, noisy Camellia Grill. Mick seemed almost too big to fit on the
stools lined up at the marble counter—he had to sit half-turned toward her, one long
leg crossed over hers, but Allie didn’t mind. She was enjoying the closeness she felt
with him today.

Maybe part of it was that he’d opened up to her and told her a bit of his story about
the accident. But it was also that he’d remained open to her—a good chink in the armor,
anyway—and she loved the vulnerability he was allowing himself with her.

She knew it was that he
allowed
himself—there was no doubt about it. Mick was still almost perfectly controlled.
The Dom thing. The Mick thing. It was that lovely, melding combination of control
and vulnerability that just killed her. He could ask anything he wanted of her right
now and she’d have to say yes.

“What are you having, baby?” he asked.

“A veggie omelet.”

“Really? That’s no fun. I’m having the waffles.”

“Oh, that sounds good.”

“You should have them, too.”

“I’m a pastry chef, Mick. I have sugar in my mouth on a daily basis. Or, I will when
I start working again.”

He leaned in and murmured against her ear, his breath warm on her skin, “I’ll put
some sugar in your mouth, girl.”

She shivered, lust infusing her system so fast it made her go hot all over.

“Yes, please,” she answered.

He grinned. “Good girl.”

“Oh, God, don’t do that to me here, Mick.”

“I’ll do plenty to you later. Just leaving you with something to think about.”

“You’re a wicked man.”

“You like me that way.”

“Yes, I do. But shall we change the subject?”

His gray eyes were sparkling. “Why, when I’m having so much fun torturing you?”

“Change of subject, please.”

He looked like he was about to protest when a waiter approached their section of the
counter and poured two cups of coffee for them without being asked.

“What’ll you have?”

Mick ordered for them, and the waiter, in classic Camellia Grill style, shouted the
order at the cooks.

Mick turned his attention back to her.

“Okay. Change of subject, but only because you asked so nicely. Tell me how your family’s
doing.”

“They’re fine. I’ve talked to Mama and
Zia
Renata on the phone. No one brought up my business plan, which is just as I’d expected.
Brush things under the rug and they disappear—that’s our family motto.”

“That’s everyone’s family motto.”

“Maybe. How is your family? I only get regular updates on Neal through Marie Dawn.”

“Doing well. Gareth’s kid just had his fourteenth birthday. Makes me feel old. I remember
when he was in diapers. Nolan’s wedding is coming up in the fall . . . hey, you should
see if they need someone to do the cake.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ve got that arranged by now.”

“Maybe not. I’ll give you his fiancée’s number. Katie’s great. You should call her.”

“I actually love to do wedding cakes.”

“Where did you learn how?” he asked as their food arrived.

“Veggie omelet hold the onions and the house waffles for the beautiful couple!” the
waiter shouted for effect as he set the plates in front of them.

“Thanks.” She smiled at the waiter before turning back to Mick. “A bit at culinary
school—just doing cakes, I mean—but I apprenticed at this incredible place in Vienna
for about six months and they really put me through the drills. Made me stay up literally
all night rolling and rerolling my fondant until I learned to do it right.”