Sugar Dust (2 page)

A rumble from the heater reminded her she wore nothing but leather and metal. She shuffled toward the side nearest the jets of warmth.

When Dan returned, he wore a jacket and shoes.

“Dan, please don’t leave me.”

“I have to pick them up.”

“What about me?” Karen clenched her fists. “You don’t have to run every time mummy calls. You’re not her baby anymore.”

His eyes narrowed. “Steady, Kaz.”

“Look at me! I’m naked—wearing a spreader bar—in a cage.” She twisted against the bars. “What do you think she’ll say when she sees me?”

“She won’t. Pete’s coming.”

“And what’s he going to do?”

“Find the key.”

“And you?”

“I have to go.” He stood in front of the cage and slid a hand through the bars. “I’m sorry.”

Karen jerked away, unwilling to let his gentle touch fog her thinking. Not this time.

“Don’t be like that.”

“What do you want me to say, Dan? ‘I’m fine in here naked while you pick up your folks?’ No way. At least uncuff my hands, or untie my legs.”

Dan glanced at his watch again. Sighing, he plucked a single small key from the dresser and slotted it through the bars into her hand. “Here, I’ve got to go,” he said and ran out.

The door slammed shut. Karen winced at the sound. Her body shook, though not with cold.

“Stupid, fucking asshole,” she cried, venting her frustration to the empty room. She sighed and tossed her head back to calm herself. Then Karen shut her eyes and concentrated on unlocking the cuffs by feel. The key slipped around the lock for several seconds before sliding from her grip. It hit the floor, bounced, and then sailed through the bars of the cage and beneath the chest of drawers.

“No, no, no!” She wiggled round and craned her neck just enough to see the faint gleam of silver amongst the clumps of dust and empty condom wrappers.

Goosebumps prickled up her arms and thighs. She opened her mouth to call out and heard the front door slam. Silence descended on the house.

“Fuck!”

Chapter Two

“Darling, where are you?”

Dan ground his teeth as the voice filled his ear. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel and tightened until his knuckles whitened. As the traffic crawled forward another inch, he saw the miniature titan that was his mother in his mind’s eye. Wagging her finger at him.

“I’m on Queen’s Road.”

A soft sigh came from the Bluetooth receiver. “Miles away. Why didn’t you leave sooner?”

“You’re here, then?”

“Your father and I have been standing here like vagrants for five whole minutes. You should have left sooner.”

“And you could have called sooner.” He jabbed a finger at the air, imagining his mother’s face in its place.

“Don’t be so grumpy, darling. We’re here to see you.”

“Sorry,” he said in his most saccharine tone. “You could take a bus if you don’t want to wait. It’s cheaper than a cab. The stop is right outside the station.” Hope filled his voice.

“Ugh. No thank you. The train was bad enough. Just hurry along, darling.”

He hung up and jumped when the phone immediately rang again, the tone transferred to the receiver in his ear.

“What?” He snapped when the call connected.

“Sorry, mate, I just—where’s your spare key?”

Some of the stiffness eased out of Dan’s shoulders. “Pete, thank God. You’re there?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see the key.”

“Inside a fake rock under the rose bush.”

Several tense seconds passed. Dan heard his friend wrestling with the bush and the sharp yelp meaning he’d probably found a number of thorns.

“Got it,” he said.

Dan closed his eyes. He took a brief moment to enjoy the lightness as some of the tension seeped from his shoulders. “Okay, and Pete? When you get in there—be sensitive, okay?”

“Eh?”

“Karen’s likely to be pissed off.” He licked his lips. “Try not to make it worse.”

A long pause followed. “What’s going on?”

“I wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t desperate. Tell her that.”

For the fourth time since dashing off in the car he struggled to think of an alternative scenario. One that kept both his mother and girlfriend happy, and him with a full set of functioning body parts. Still no luck.

“Mate, what have you done?”

“I need to go.” Heat crept up his neck and jaw. Dan hung up. He removed the Bluetooth headset, put the phone on silent and tried to concentrate on the road ahead instead of what Pete would soon uncover in his bedroom. Again he thought of Karen’s face when he left her; brows scrunched, down turned lips and a deep sadness in her eyes. His own chest ached at leaving her that way, but what choice did he have?

Ten minutes and six missed calls later, Dan pulled into the train station car park and stopped in front of a tiny, silver haired woman waving an equally tiny hankie. Her dress, reminiscent of some hideous seventies curtain, billowed in the breeze and displayed an unwelcome length of leg encased in sheer nylon.

“Darling!” she cried. “I thought you’d never get here.”

The sound of that crisp, nasal voice sapped all the righteous rage Dan had managed to cultivate on the car ride over. The voice dragged him back twenty years, maybe even thirty, and placed him at his mother’s side, hanging his head as she brandished yet another of his second place trophies.

“It
is
rush hour, Mum.”

“We had to settle for that ghastly sandwich place. The green one.”

“Subway? What’s wrong with that?”

“All that greasy, microwaved meat. Terrible. I had to ask your father to find us a sofa in Costa instead. At least they have decent coffee.”

“Hi, Dad.” Dan eyed the older man’s lion-like sweep of white hair and lively brown eyes and held out his hand. His father took it and gave it a brief squeeze.

“You’re just in time, my boy. I don’t have it in me to fight off another group of tourists. Or keep your mother away from them.”

Maxine pursed her lips. “You have no right to shoo away my fans. There’s no harm in signing an autograph or two.”

“I prefer to drink my coffee in peace.”

“You’re such a stick in the mud.”

“And you can’t stand not being the center of attention.”

As the pair began their customary bickering, Dan tuned it out and led his mother to the front passenger side. He held the door for her.

“See that, Julian, I raised him right. Such a good boy.” She pressed a dry, heavily perfumed kiss against his face and folded herself into the car.

Dan slammed the door behind her and scrubbed his cheek with his sleeve. “Want a hand, Dad?”

Julian shook his head and climbed into the back seat. “Let’s just go.”

Back in the car, before Dan managed to fasten his seatbelt, the bickering started again.

“Let me buy you a new car, darling.” Maxine shoved one glossy fingernail into a hole in the dashboard. “This thing is falling apart.”

He eased her hand away from the hole. “It will, if you keep doing that. Besides, I like this car.”

“It isn’t safe. I’ll get you a BMW, or one of those sporty things my agent used to drive. You know the ones...a Lexus.”

“I don’t want a new car.”

“It’s no trouble. I know money must be tight what with that woman leeching it from your pockets.”

His pulse quickened. “Leeching?”

Maxine patted her hair. It was already perfect, but she made a great show of curling it behind her ears before she spoke again. “Carol, or whatever it is.”

“Karen.”

“Her. She’s not working?”

“She’s a student.”

“I knew she was too young for you.”

Dan curled and uncurled his toes within the confines of his shoes. He bit the inside of his cheek and counted to five before he spoke. “She’s thirty-one. It’s a PhD.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying she’s living off the state, darling.”

“Steady, Maxine. Clearly the woman has some brains if she’s doing something like that.” Julian leaned forward to pat Dan on the shoulder. Dan opened his mouth to thank his father, but cut short when Maxine flapped a dismissive hand in his face. “It’s lazy, that’s what it is. Those people who stay in education drinking and smoking, instead of working and contributing like everyone else. Lazy.”

“Like you?” Dan gritted his teeth.

“No, not like me. I’m retired, darling.”

“You haven’t worked for twenty years.”

Maxine turned to face him. Her eyes, surrounded by delicate make-up, narrowed to thin slits. “I’ve done my share, darling. And I still contribute. I don’t even draw my pension.”

“Only because you’re not old enough.” Dan clutched the wheel harder than necessary and took a left at a sharp angle. “What brings you all the way up here?”

A relieved sigh came from the back seat.

“It would be better if we got to your house first. I don’t like to air my affairs in the street.”

Dan glanced around the interior of the car. “I think you’re safe, Mum.”

“I’d rather wait, thank you. I’ll tell you over dinner.”

“You
are
staying then?”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like Katherine hasn’t prepared anything.”

“
Karen,
is a damn good cook, but even she needs more than half an hour to prepare a gluten-free, vegan meal for four.” He shot his mother an exasperated look.

“Oh.”

The single syllable lit a flame in Dan’s belly. He exhaled to a slow count of ten. “You didn’t give us much warning. What were we supposed to do?”

“A resourceful woman always finds a way.”

Dan grunted. “Tonight is my turn to cook, anyway.”

“You?” Maxine gasped.

He looked her way. Her lips pursed and her nose wrinkled as if she’d smelled something horrid. Dan sighed loudly before he returned his attention to the road. “I can cook.”

“Yes, of course, darling, but it’s the least she can do. Or is she one of those awful feminist types who refuses to shave her underarms?”

“Mum please...I’ll order takeout.”

“Fine, but no Chinese, or pizza and certainly no curry. I don’t know what it is about you Leicester people. Everything has to be smothered in sauce and spices. Probably to hide the taste of dog and cat meat.”

Dan gave a long, low sigh and said nothing.

Chapter Three

Relief chased quickly by terror made Karen’s skin flush first hot then cold. She straightened and turned her ear to listen a little better. Yes...jingling keys. The clunk of a key turning, followed by the squeal of labored hinges as the front door opened.

“Hello?” a voice called.

“Dan?”

“Kaz? No, it’s Pete.”

Karen sighed. She was relieved to put off the meet with Maxine a few more minutes. “Thank God.” An instant later she remembered her naked body and the cage. She stiffened. A sour taste flooded her mouth. “Shit, Peter?”

“Where are you?”

She hesitated then heard his footsteps pounding up the stairs. It was clear that there was no avoiding the next few minutes.

“In the bedroom.” She closed her eyes. Her skin tingled, every muscle coiled tight with the urge to flee. But where could she go?

The gritty truth of her entrapment finally broke through. There was no escape. There was nowhere to hide. Her body was completely exposed.
Fuck...
She closed her eyes and waited. The door creaked open. Goosebumps trailed down her arms and legs.

A strangled whimper quivered through the air. “Christ...”

Karen’s eyes popped open. Pete stood framed in the doorway. He wore faded blue jeans covered in old paint and a jacket with similar stains. A smudge of something black and gritty smeared the side of his nose and his close-cropped hair glistened with sweat. His mouth hung open. “What are you doing in there? Are you hurt?”

“Calm down for a second.”

“What the hell?” he whispered, voice broken and feeble with bemusement.

“I’m okay, Pete—”

“But your arms.” He pointed, and his gaze followed his finger, across her arms and chest, lingering on her breasts before hiking back up to her shoulders. “Are they bruises?”

“Whip marks.” She bit through each word, sharp and staccato like cracking bones.

“Fuck!”

“Pete, I’m fine. They’ll be gone within an hour.”

“Jesus, Kaz.” His gaze skimmed the floor, pausing briefly on a black whip with a red handle. “What’s going on?”

After a few seconds of searching for an answer that wasn’t embarrassing, Karen realized it didn’t exist. She straightened her spine and made her tone firm and clear while trying to ignore the way her breasts thrust forward every time she moved. “We were...playing.”

“Come again?”

“Playing,” she repeated, waggling her eyebrows.

He gave her a blank look.

“Oh, come on Pete, connect the dots. Playing? In the bedroom?”

Color flooded his face: hot, healthy red. “Oh.” He puffed out his cheeks. A grin blossomed on his lips. “Kinky fuckers. You play with cages?”

Karen glared at the floor. She remembered her reluctance when Dan first suggested it and the sneaky way he eventually sweet-talked her into it. Damn his talented tongue.

“Not after this,” she muttered.

“Does he tie you up too? Have his wicked way?”

“It’s not like that!”

Silence. When she looked up, Karen realized Pete hadn’t stopped staring. She felt his gaze trace over her body, electric, like the crackling tip of a violet wand. Surprise mingled with the pleasure she felt at being looked at. Then guilt chased away both emotions.

“Eyes up, Pete.”

He snickered. “Come on, Kaz. You look great.”

Her shoulders lifted. In his face, she saw sincere appreciation mingled with faint lust. Her legs trembled. “Shut up.” The words lacked the venom she wanted. With effort she flicked the mental switch that controlled her voyeuristic side and jerked her head. “The handcuff key is under the drawers. You need to uncuff my hands.”

He stooped, groping beneath the unit with one hand. The whole time his gaze never left the cage. Aware of the view presented by the spreader bar, Karen swiveled round and gave him her back. “Stop mucking around. It didn’t go far.”