On the Ropes (19 page)

No, she didn’t want him to wait in the car. She wanted him right there with her, but knew that would be cowardly. She was a grown woman of nearly thirty. Facing her mother without a chaperone should have been the easiest thing she’d done in years, but she couldn’t be sure about anything anymore.

She gave his wrist another squeeze. “I’ll try not to take too long.”

“Don’t worry if you do. I can entertain myself.” He winked and started down the path.

“Boyfriend?” Mary whispered.

Jan opened her mouth to give the woman a quick no, but stopped herself at the last minute. “Uh. I think so.”

“Either he is or he isn’t. If he ain’t, I’m sure some other woman would be glad to have him.” She gave an appreciative grunt as Stephen disappeared around the corner.

“Yes, I know, but the situation is complicated.”

“Well, don’t let it be complicated.”

“You make that sound so easy.”

“Girl, if we don’t let some things be easy, we’ll go insane. Come on in here and sit down.”

Mary opened the door and Jan was nearly blown on her ass by the aggressive air conditioning. Shuddering, Jan walked slowly to the sofa, taking in the barely-furnished room around her. Nothing was familiar, and she’d hoped desperately that there’d be some holdover from their life together. Some ornament, some tchotchke. There was nothing. Just white walls, a couple of bare end tables, and a rectangular dent in the carpet where a television stand or bookcase must have previously been.

She sat with legs crossed primly at the ankles and wrenched her hands on her lap. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped and pressed her palms to the sofa cushions instead.

This is just Momma. Nothing bad’s going to happen.

“Well, who is it?” came a familiar, yet changed, voice from the hallway. “Just about everyone I know has already packed up and left. They would have called first, anyway.”

“You know damn well they wouldn’t,” Mary chided. “You keep the rudest company. I don’t understand it.”

“Well, I haven’t even fixed my ha—”

She stopped at the edge of the room, grips locked on her wheelchair’s handrims.

Jan stood.

Momma craned her neck and looked at Mary. “No… No, I can’t. You should have said something.”

“After all these years, you know better than to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. Go on in there and say hello.”

Momma shook her head hard and made a neat turn that put her toes-to-shins with Mary. “Let me past you.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Mary,
move
.”

Mary did.

Jan registered a strained, choking sound, and realized it come through her own lips. Her ass hit the sofa cushion, and she didn’t even remember sitting.

She’d gone into this knowing her mother might not be the woman she remembered, but she’d convinced herself that she’d at least be open to sitting with her. Reconnecting. This was the worst possible outcome. Momma hadn’t been nasty, she’d been aloof. Somehow, that felt even worse than outright vitriol.

Her phone chirped in her purse at her feet, and sighing, she grabbed the bag’s handle.

I should just go
.

The phone chirped again, and standing on leaden feet, she pulled it out and read the message.

I’m at a bookstore not too far from the complex. Let me know if you need anything
.

Stephen.

She immediately typed back
Come get me.

What’s wrong?

Please?

Coming.

No needling, no hassling. One day, she’d thank him for his sensitivity.

She had her hand on the doorknob and was dropping her phone in her purse when Mary’s voice halted her.

“Don’t go,” she said.

Jan turned and watched the older woman hurry over.

“Don’t give her anything else to regret.”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“Of course she wants to see you. Just not…” She swept a demonstrative hand at the room and the hallway beyond it. “Not like this.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When you spend any time around folks who are chronically ill or handicapped, you stop trying to make emotional things make sense. Sometimes, the rules are different.”

“She’s the same person she was before, isn’t she?”

Oh, God. Could her mother have lost her memories in the crash? Did she even feel anything for Janette?

“I’d reckon she’s more or less the same.”

“So help me understand.”

A gentle rap on the door nearly startled Jan out of her loafers.

Mary leaned around her and put her eye to the peephole. “Your boyfriend’s back.”

“Knight in shining armor.”

“You were just gonna leave, huh?”

“Yes.” Jan opened the door.

Stephen looked from Jan to Mary and back to Jan again, seeming to assess the situation. Without context clues, he likely wasn’t gleaning much. For once, she had no desire to leave him on the hook.

“My mother doesn’t want to see me,” she said.

Mary groaned. “She’ll come around. Don’t take it personally. I know her better than anyone, and the way she acted wasn’t because she don’t want to see you. She’s scared.”

Jan threw up her hands in exasperation. “Of what? Me? I’m
Janette
. She should know I’m the last person she should be afraid of. Half the time, I jump at the sight of my own shadow.”

Mary rested her hands on Jan’s shoulders and gave them a little squeeze. “Give her a little time. Can you give her a little time?”

Sorrow pulled at her gut, tightened her lungs. “She’s leaving.”

“You mobile?”

Jan opened her mouth to say “No.”

Stephen cut in, “I can get her to wherever she needs to be, and whenever she needs to be there. Just tell me when.”

Jan turned to him. “You’re supposed to be at work next week.”

“Find another excuse, Janette.”

His authoritative tone shut her mouth and brought heat to her cheeks. He took her by the arm and positioned her in front of him so they were toe-to-toe. “You know I’m not generally the kind of man who’ll push you into doing anything before you’re ready, but you need to listen to what this woman is telling you.”

“What are you hearing that I’m not?”

“I’m hearing that a frightened woman doesn’t want to see her daughter, and I imagine it’s for the exact same reasons her daughter straddled the fence about coming to see her. She’s not making it easy for you, but if we gave up on the things that weren’t easy, we’d never be happy.”

Like he hadn’t given up on her. She sure as
shit
hadn’t made it easy.

Mary gave her shoulder a poke. “Listen to what he’s telling you.”

“Tell me what to do,” Jan said after a while. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Give her time, baby. She ain’t got a choice but to think about you now. Give her some time to forgive herself.”

“For what? There’s nothing to blame her for.”

“I don’t truly believe she knows that.”

The way Stephen saw it, he had two options for handling Jan. He could let her pull away from him and retreat to a quiet room to be alone with her thoughts, or he could make her
live
through them. During the drive back down the coast, her head hung lower and lower, and with every sniffle—every sigh—she seemed ever closer to falling apart.

He wasn’t going to let her. She may have lived the past twenty-five years keeping her own counsel, but it was time for that to stop. She would keep bottling everything up. Eventually, the bottle would break, and when it did, Stephen would have a tough row to hoe. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want to give her more time to fix herself. He didn’t want to give her the chance to shut him out ever again.

Enough.

She needed to learn how to function around people who gave a damn about her, starting with him. He’d help relieve the stress in her bottle of emotions one frisson at a time until they could take off the cap without fear everything inside would erupt.

Back at the beach house, he pulled her past the Rozhkovs in the kitchen and took her to their room. He locked the door, kicked off his shoes, and pointed to the bed. “Sit.”

Jan blinked at him. “What?”

“Sit on the bed. Take off your shoes.”

Her forehead furrowed at the request, but after a moment, she moved. She nudged her loafers off by the heels, but her stare seemed to be focused a million miles away.

He needed to get her out of her own head.

“Take off your shirt and shorts,” he said.

She looked over at him on a five-second delay. “It’s only three. It’s too early for bed.”

“Take off your shirt and shorts,” he repeated. He kept his voice bland, expression neutral.

As he moved to the dresser, he caught a glimpse of her continuing hesitance in the mirror. She was confused, and he considered that a hell of a step up from depressed.

He stared long enough to see her tug her tank top over her head, and he opened the deep, bottom-right drawer of the dresser. Under a layer of spare linens was a locked wooden box only he had a key for. He’d kept that box there on the off chance he’d use it, but he’d never brought a woman to this house before now. Seemed fitting that it’d be there waiting for Jan.

He unlocked it, lifting the lid while watching Jan shimmy out of her white shorts. She sat on the edge of the bed again, wringing her hands, and he sorted through the box’s contents.

Blindfolds. No, not for Jan.

Various floggers and paddles.

Nope. Not for a long time.

Velcro straps… Getting closer.

His fingers curled around the satiny skein of rope. It wasn’t very much rope. He couldn’t do anything fancy, but it was enough for a start.

At the bedside, he raised Jan’s chin up so she’d meet his gaze. “Stand and turn.”

She did it slowly. Concern was etched on her beautiful features, but she did it without question.

He placed the rope on the nightstand and worked her bra clasp free.

“We won’t be needing that.” He leaned into her as he pushed the straps down her arms and pressed his lips to the elegant curve of her neck.

She gasped softly when he pressed his hands against her full breasts and nipped at her earlobe.

His cock strained in his shorts, and he held himself back from her ass, not only to hide the evidence of his arousal, but to prevent himself from exploding on impact.

He pulled at her taut nipples and she rolled her head back, baring her neck to him. He licked down its side, blew on it, and chuckled when she reached back and clawed at his shorts.

“Patience,” he cautioned.

“You seem to have more practice at it than I do.”

“Mm-hmm.” He pushed her breasts together and stared down at the enticing crevice between them. He let them go and hooked his thumbs under her panty elastic. The bare scrap of fabric was so inconsequential that he could probably rip them off her with little effort.

But, he liked them. Their high cut showed off her long legs and cinched waist. The little bow just over her pubic bone reminded him of the feminine treat it covered.

The panties would survive the day.

He pulled them down and pushed his knee between hers.

She stepped out of the panties and spread her legs.

Nice
. He put his hands under her cheeks and made her ass bounce. It was just a simulation, but the thought of dropping her onto his cock and making her ride him reverse cowgirl sent a fresh surge of blood to his groin. It’d make a hell of a view.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

He drew a small X with his finger just over her ass’s cleft.

She complied. He laid her wrists one over the other and grabbed the rope.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” He made a preliminary loop around her wrists and held the place the rope joined down with his thumb. “When I’m done tying you, you’re going to get on your knees. You hear me?”

She nodded. “Then what?”

He gave her ass a little tap that made her suck in a breath, then she arched her back and wriggled her rear end against his hand.

Interesting.

She moaned when he rubbed the place he’d swatted.

He continued wrapping her wrists, stopping periodically for feedback. “Too tight?”

“No.”

He made one final loop through the cylinder of rope rows, made a knot, and tucked in the ends.

“I have a lot of rope at my apartment,” he said. He turned her around and guided her to the shaggy rug in front of the bed. It’d be easier on her knees.

He helped her to the floor, bent to reward her with a rough kiss, and pulled back when she leaned into him to deepen it.

She pouted when he drew back.

Of course she’d be confused, but she’d learn the game quickly. This wasn’t like boxing where opponents danced around each other and tried to exploit each other’s weak spots. Stephen already knew Jan’s weak spots. He didn’t want to exploit them. He wanted her to defend them, but to think forward as well. She could be strong in spite of her hardships, and that’s what would take her opponents off-guard.

He walked behind her, and when she turned her head to track his movement, he pressed his hands to the sides of her head and turned it forward again.

“Eyes front.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“If you’d like me to tell you, I will, but I suspect that would eliminate a great deal of the titillation.”

He unfastened his belt and undid the button on his shorts.

“I can walk you through it step by step. Tell you everything I’m going to do to you and what you’ll be doing to me, if that’s what you want.”

The rasp of his fly as he pulled the zipper down made Jan’s body tense even further.

“Or you can let me take the lead and trust that I’ll give you everything you need.”

“What about what I
want
?” she asked.

“Perhaps what you need and what you want are the same things.” With shorts unfastened, he squatted down behind her and put his lips right against her ear. “Now, how do you want it?”

A clipped breath passed through her lips, and she squared up her posture, keeping her eyes forward. “Don’t tell me.”