Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1 (25 page)

She nodded and pushed herself to sitting as well. “Okay. What?”

“Come with me.” He rose and extended a hand to her, pulling her to her feet. He reached for the blanket and wrapped it around her, then grabbed his jeans where they were crumpled in a heap on the floor. “I just have to get rid of the condom. Hold on.”

He stopped in the powder room to dispose of it, shook out his jeans and stepped into them, then rejoined her. He led her down the hall to the last bedroom, the one he’d never showed her. He entered the code into a discreet keypad, then turned the knob and pushed open the door.

Sasha followed him in and he flicked a switch to turn on the lights.

Her forehead furrowed as she looked around, taking in the empty space, the mirror on the short wall, the gray Berber carpet and tatami mats, the shoji screen in the corner. She didn’t look up to see the suspension hooks in the ceiling and he didn’t draw her attention to them.

She turned to face him. “What is this room? Another room for your Aikido?”

“No.” He crossed to the cabinet against one wall and opened it to reveal the various ropes neatly arranged there. Then he moved closer to her. He tugged the ends of her hair free from the blanket she held around her shoulders. “I had this room designed for practicing Shibari, or Kinbaku.”

She gazed back at him blankly.

“It’s Japanese bondage,” he explained. He set his hands lightly on her shoulders.

Her chin dipped. “Bondage?”

“Yes.” He held her gaze steadily. “Can I tell you about it?”

For a moment she didn’t answer. Then she nodded, a small crease pleating the skin between her eyebrows.

He stroked her hair again. “You were honest with me earlier, Sasha. Honesty is important. I want to be honest with you. Give me the chance.”

She hesitated then gave another small nod.

“When I moved to California, I wanted to learn self defense. I took up Aikido, and that was where I met Nozumo Sensei. He could see that I was lost. Confused. About a lot of things. We became friends. Or really, he was more of a mentor to me, which I really needed at that time. I needed a man in my life, a strong man. Not like my uncle.” His jaw tensed briefly. “Aikido became very important to me, a way of learning about myself, my strengths and weaknesses. But there was something that had me really disturbed.” He studied her face for reaction. “The fact that I’d wanted to tie you up.” His heart picked up speed as he talked, emotion filling him along with memories as he went back in time. “It was something I wanted to try, something I’d…dreamed about. And even when I went out with other girls….” Her mouth firmed. “I thought about doing it to them. I didn’t understand what was wrong with me.”

Her eyes grew bigger and luminous, her mouth soft, but still she said nothing.

Jack closed his eyes briefly. “For some reason, one day I confided in Sensei that I had these crazy urges. I didn’t
feel
like a sicko pervert. I felt normal, just a guy who liked different things.” He shrugged. “But your parents thought I was a sick perv, and so I kept wondering if there was something wrong with me.”

He caught the flash of emotion on her face when he mentioned her parents, reminding her of that night. He swallowed.

“I was nineteen at the time,” he continued. “A kid. But Sensei understood. Maybe that was why I confessed to him, because I knew he would. He explained what I was feeling and that it wasn’t sick and twisted, that it’s just who I am. He taught me that there are other people who feel like that too. He gave me stuff to read by Donatien Alphonse François, Marquis de Sade, and some other books. Sensei had started teaching Shibari and I was fascinated by it. I wanted to learn as much as I could. He introduced me to people and he taught me what I needed to know to be able to practice it safely. Consensually. He taught me honor, loyalty, trust and respect.”

He touched her cheek, her skin warm and soft beneath his fingertips.

“It’s still who I am,” he said. “I can’t lie to you, Sasha.”

“Why?” Her big eyes stared at him searchingly. “Why do you want to do that?”

“I think you need to know more about it for me to explain that,” he said, cupping her face so gently. “As I learned more about Aikido, I learned about the spiritual component to it, and when I started talking to Sensei about bondage, he taught me that there’s a spiritual component to that also.”

Her lips pursed at that and her eyes narrowed. “Right.”

“I’m serious.” He gave her a gentle smile though. “For one thing, it’s not just about ropes and bondage. It’s a journey. A sensual, spiritual journey. Yes, it’s partly about control. I love that feeling. I do like being in control.”

“Uh…
yeah
,” she muttered.

“But it’s also artistic and beautiful. It’s a challenge and it’s fun. And it can be incredibly arousing for the woman.”

“For the woman,” she repeated. She took a step back, eyes pinching even more. Her hands tightened the blanket around her naked body. “Have you done that to a lot of women?”

His chest clenched. “Not gonna lie to you. Yeah.”

Her mouth tightened.

“It’s been twelve years,” he reminded her, voice low. “You’ve been with other men. You told me that.”

She gave a jerky nod.

“I get off on making you feel good,” he said, this time making it personal. About her. “It’s not about pain. It’s about sensation. About tying the rope to the exact tightness, situating the knots in the perfect place to bring pleasure.”

“Are you saying…” She stopped and her throat worked. “Are you saying you want to tie me up again?”

Once more he held her gaze resolutely and calmly. “Yes.”

She took another step away from him, and he let her have her distance.

“I wondered,” she said.

“I understand if you don’t trust me that much yet,” he said. “I know we’re still getting to know each other again. But Sasha…” He placed his fist over his chest. “I know you wanted that when we were younger. I think you still do.”

“This is a lot more than just tying me up,” she said slowly. “This is a whole…life.”

“Would you give us a chance to try it?”

She looked at the ropes then back at him, pinching her bottom lip between thumb and forefinger. She blinked rapidly, once again glancing at the ropes. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do that.”

She turned and headed for the door, yanked it open and disappeared.

Jack closed his eyes and tipped his head back. Shit. Just what he’d been afraid of.

With a sigh, he followed her, turning off the lights as he left. He found her in the dark living room, scrambling into her clothes.

“Sasha, don’t go.”

He could stop her. He could physically restrain her and stop her from leaving. He contemplated the possibility then rejected it.

“I have to go,” she mumbled, her T-shirt obscuring her face as she pulled it over her head.

Maybe she needed time to think about it all, to let it sink in, and to realize that was what she wanted too. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll drive you home.”

He found his own shirt and put it on, sat to pull on socks and shoes, while she did the same, refusing to look at him.

It was okay. It would be okay. She just needed time. He wasn’t giving up.

The drive to her home through dark streets was mostly silent. He parked in front of the duplex and walked her to the door. As she fumbled with her keys, he reached for her chin and turned her face up to him. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said quietly.

“No.” She gave a violent shake of her head. “I don’t think we should do this anymore. I can’t be what you want, Jack.”

“You
are
what I want.”

“It’s too much. Too fast. I-I…I’m not right for you.”

“It felt pretty right a couple of hours ago when we were lying on my living room floor.”

She dropped her eyes. “This has been a mistake. I don’t know how this happened. I knew better than to get involved with you. And with a client, for God’s sake.” She rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand. “I think we’d better just finish this project and keep it professional.”

She finally got her key in and shoved the door open. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

She disappeared inside and he leaned against the outside wall for a moment, looking at his shoes. Maybe he was a stubborn idiot—but hell no, it wasn’t over.

Sasha prayed Kevin wasn’t up, because she did not want to face him just then. She did not want to face anybody, including herself. She rushed up the stairs and into her bedroom, quietly shutting the door. She paused there with trembling hands, weak knees and a thumping heart.

Damn. She covered her cheeks with her hands and closed her eyes.

What a mess.

She should have known better. She moved into the bedroom and removed her jacket and kicked off her shoes. What on earth had possessed her to think that she could have a sexual relationship with Jack when she knew what he was like?

Except she didn’t really know what he was like. He had a whole stockpile of
ropes
in that room. Good Lord! That wasn’t just fuzzy handcuffs or using a silk tie to bind someone’s wrists once in a while in bed.

She sat on her bed, trying to calm her racing heart. And trying to pretend she hadn’t felt her stomach swoop with excitement at the sight of the ropes.

Strong, independent women who valued their own self worth did not let men do things like that them. Her mother had drilled that into her head after that night. Told her over and over again that she was better than that, that she was strong enough to stand up to a man who wanted to do things she didn’t want to do, that she had the right to say no, that no meant no…all those important female lessons.

The shame she’d felt upon their reaction to finding her and Jack like that had grown and deepened. It had all gotten twisted up in her head that what she’d done had been wrong. Her parents had forgiven her and had always told her they loved her and they wanted more for her, but it had never really gone away. She’d been reminded of it every time they’d worried about who she was dating, every time one of her brothers had followed her, every time they’d tried to fix her up with the kind of man they thought she should be with. Like last night.

She hated it. And she hated that they had to do those things because they thought she was weak or lacking in confidence to the extent that she would permit a man to physically abuse her.

Because she wasn’t weak. She was strong. Hadn’t she just proved that by standing up to Jack?

Slowly she rose and went into the bathroom to wash her face. She stripped out of her T-shirt and black pants. In front of the mirror as she lathered face wash between her palms, she studied her reflection. Her chin and jaw were pink with whisker burn from Jack’s stubble. Her lips were swollen, her eye makeup smudged a little. She had to close her eyes against the heat that flared in her pussy, remembering Jack’s kisses, his touches, remembering the wide girth of his cock stretching her mouth. A moan rose in her throat.

She bent and rubbed the soap into her face then splashed cold water to rinse. She ignored her reflection as she pressed a soft towel to her face then left the bathroom.

She took off her bra and panties and slid into bed naked, something she didn’t usually do. She lay there in the dark, her body pulsing with lingering arousal. Her pussy clenched and unclenched, her breasts ached, her skin felt super sensitive as the cool sheets settled over. She rolled to her side and turned her face into the pillow. And then she did something she couldn’t explain.

Her arms shifted and she clasped her hands behind her. Her back arched a little and her head went back in some kind of reflexive response to the pose. She shifted to her back, her hands trapped beneath her, and mentally took inventory of how exposed and vulnerable her body was like that.

And then she parted her legs. She pictured Jack there between her thighs. Her breathing accelerated and her pussy dampened. He could do anything to her when she was like this. What if he tied her wrists like that? What if he restrained her legs so she was helpless?

Oh God. Oh God. She wanted that. Ached for it, craved it with a fierce, bone-deep yearning. Tears leaked from her eyes as she released her grip on her own hands and rolled to her stomach again, face buried in the pillows that absorbed her tears.

All day Monday, Jack ached with the need to pick up his phone and call Sasha. But he restrained himself. Keeping busy at work helped, and God knew there was enough work to do. But he kept thinking about her, about how she’d felt when he’d left her last night, what she’d said. Where was she? What was she working on? Was she maybe at his condo, overseeing more construction work?

He recognized his feelings as an obsession. Now he’d had her back in his life, he was even more convinced that they belonged together. There was so much she didn’t understand. Determination stiffened within him.

He’d tried to take things slow, recognizing her innocence and lack of experience. Recognizing her fear. What he hadn’t counted on was her denial of what she wanted. It was as if she were ashamed. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get her past that. But he would. Somehow.