Sweet Surrender (29 page)

“I don’t mean the fucking wedding! I want to know why you won’t take my money!”

She lost her cool after he did and snapped. “Because I’m not marrying you for your money! I love you, not the millions of dollars you have in the bank, or for what you can buy me, or for a freakin’ fifteen thousand dollar engagement ring. I worked exhaustively to get my degree so I could be self-sufficient. If I want something, I can damn well buy it for myself. I can’t be dependent on a man for every little thing in my life. My mother found that out the hard way. She relied on a man and look where that got her. Screwed! And living in a dilapidated trailer on tips.”

He stared at her, a sad, almost pitying expression on his face. “That’s it, isn’t it? Your father abandoned you and you’re merely biding your time until I do the same.” His hand rose to her face, his thumb gliding down her cheek. “Here’s the thing, baby. I’m not your father. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I love you.”

“He loved her once too,” her murmured answer was dismal, “and made similar promises, then one day he up and left. I know you love me now, but things change. I need to feel safe, to be able to make it on my own. Once I have some savings and retirement built up, I’ll leave the hospital for something less stressful.”

“How much is it going to take?”

“What?”

“To feel safe, Jessie, how big of a nest egg do you need before that happens? Half a million, a million, maybe two… will it ever be enough?”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, I understand perfectly. You’re afraid of ending up like your mother. I get that, but how do you think it makes me feel that you think ten or fifteen years from now, we won’t be together? Image how I feel when the woman I love, who I plan to spend my life with, works sixteen-hour days, weekends, nightshifts, and overtime socking away money for the day our relationship will end.”

Not having considered the message that would send him, her stomach twisted; she’d really made a mess of things.

Jessie’s head came up in a flash and what she saw on his face gave her a chill; a feeling of foreboding set in because she had never seen Marc look so frustrated. No, that wasn’t the right description. It was more like… defeated.

“I’ve got to get to the hospital for rounds.”

“Now? Can’t we talk about this more?”

“It doesn’t seem to be getting us anywhere. I think we need a break.”

What did that mean, a few hours, a night, a week? Or did he mean a break as in a separation?
Oh, my God, what have I done?
She didn’t ask him to clarify, too afraid of the answer she’d get.

“When will you be back, do you think?” she asked, sounding quietly brittle. As dry and constricted as her throat felt, she was amazed she was able to speak at all. In addition, her head was pounding.

“I’m on call today. It’s impossible to tell.” He grabbed his keys from the counter and headed for the mudroom. “I’ll call you when I know.”

“I love you, Marc,” she called after him, her voice breaking.

“I love you too,
bella,
” he stopped without turning back, adding quietly, “but I love all of you. That includes accepting all that comes with you—good and bad—even your fucked-up way of thinking. I wish you could do the same for me.”

* * *

It was after midnight when she heard his car pull up. He’d sent a text around nine o’clock that he had yet another emergency and would be late. ‘Don’t wait up.’ The message had been terse and to the point. It also had his usual ‘I luv u’ tacked on the end, which made her feel fractionally better.

She listened as he moved quietly around the room emptying his pockets on his dresser and undressing. His feet softly padded across the room and the bathroom light came on. She watched the door, listening to the water run in the shower, and a few minutes later shut off. He’d left the door ajar and light bathed the bedroom in a soft glow, enough to see his expression briefly before he switched off the light. The mattress shifted as he slipped beneath the covers. She waited for him to reach for her as he usually did. Instead, he lay on his back, an arm propped beneath his head, staring at the ceiling.

Her heart lurched. “Rough day, huh?” She began to reach out for him, but hesitated as he spoke.

“Three emergency surgeries kicked my ass, Jess. I have to get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

She waited a moment, understanding his need to decompress, but the distance between them was palpable, and too painful. When his eyes didn’t close, she ignored his request and blurted out her apology. “I’m sorry I’m so messed up. I didn’t mean to make you feel rejected.”

“I’m exhausted, Jess. We’ll discuss this in the morning when I’m clear-headed. Okay?”

“But—” Her throat clogged with tears though she struggled to keep them at bay. She sniffled, feeling miserable. “Would you hold me for a minute?”

His head rolled toward her on the pillow, away from soft moonlight coming through the window. She could no longer make out his features in the shadows. As she watched him in the dark, she saw the tension leave his body.

The arm tucked behind his head reached for her. “Of course, I’ll hold you, baby,” he whispered huskily. “Come here.”

She moved into him, her arm wrapped around his chest as she buried her face in his neck. “I’m an idiot,” she cried.

“Shh… None of that now, sleep. We’ll both be more lucid in the morning when we’re rested.”

“I love you, handsome.”

“
Ti amo, bella mia.
”

She closed her eyes, snuggling into him, enjoying the light clean scent of his body wash surrounding her, savoring the smoothness of his skin, the sparse smattering of springy chest hair that tickled her palm and the strength of his arms holding her against him. All that he was: his strength and protectiveness, his confidence and thoughtfulness, and even his frequently annoying need for control, was precious to her. She’d risked it all with her quirky hang-ups over money. Yes, it had taken all day and several glasses of wine, but she’d come to grips with being a control freak, especially about money. Coming from nothing, how could she not be?

However, when she set aside her linear thinking and looked at the problem from his side, she realized that by rejecting Marc’s wealth, she was denying him the ability to do what he felt he needed to as a man. He was old-fashioned; he’d mentioned it several times in the past. That part of his personality ran deep within him, the need to be the provider, the protector, and leader of his family, and most of all to take care of his woman. During her long day of introspection, her self-imposed corner time, she realized how selfish that was.

She needed to put more thought into it, but decided it shouldn’t matter if he gave her gifts and nice things, or sprang for a party. They were expressions of his affection for her and in the end, didn’t move her from her path. She would still work, have her career and her independence, pad her nest egg, and if he could make things easier along the way, more the fool was she to begrudge it. With a new course of action set in her mind, her lips grazed the underside of his jaw, smiling at his rough day’s growth of beard. She’d lay it all out for him first thing in the morning, she vowed, and promptly went to sleep.

Chapter Twenty

Movement on the bed awakened her and she slowly opened her eyes to blackness. As she raised her head to check the time, she stiffened. She couldn’t see the LED clock on her nightstand; what’s more, there was no light whatsoever. What was going on? Attempting to get up, she found that she couldn’t, not with her arms stretched above her head and her wrists bound in some kind of soft restraints.

The mattress shifted and she felt lips brush over her bare shoulder. She tensed, positive she’d gone to bed wearing a long-sleeved nightgown and still had it on when she’d rolled over at the ass crack of dawn. She felt the glide of a sheet down her bare back and the slight chill of the air brush her bare skin. An image of herself, naked and tied face-down to their four-post bed flashed before her eyes.

Feeling a bit panicky all of a sudden, she tugged at her bindings. When they didn’t budge, she pulled harder, a squeal of distress rising in her throat and breaking free.

“Shhh,
bella,
” Marc reassured, “you’re safe in our bed.” As he spoke soft reassurances to her, the sheet moved lower, over her bare bottom, and with a swish was gone.

What was going on? Their argument the day before came back in a flood of memories. Second only to the night she’d stolen his truck and locked him out, it was the worst fight they’d ever had. That he’d had to leave in the middle with it unresolved made it worse.

She had planned to tell him about her epiphany and her plan for counseling last night, but held her tongue when he’d come home exhausted. Now, he was up to something. She wasn’t sure what although one thing was certain—their talk would have to wait a bit longer.

The bed shifted again as Marc leaned over her, asking softly in her ear, “Are you awake?”

“I’m not sure.” She jerked, her arms pulling against the bindings. “I might be dreaming that I’m tied up, unable to move, and that it’s either so dark I can’t see anything, or some wicked man has blindfolded me.” She could hear her own anxiety. “Either way something isn’t quite right.”

His warm hand skimmed down her back. “Everything is fine, Jessie, and this isn’t a dream. It’s your surprise, as you requested.”

“What?” What surprise? In her mind, she replayed the last day or so. The party, coming home lit the night before, and the morning still a little foggy. Then they’d argued after Marc brought in all the shower gifts. Crap! He’d found the gift bag she’d left on the kitchen counter. His words mirrored her thoughts.

“This is the penalty toy you picked out, remember?”

She groaned in embarrassment. What had she been thinking?

“Don’t be shy,
cara
. Imagine my delight when I peeked inside and instead of one, I found a whole kit.”

His lips began to move down her back, grazing and caressing lightly as he spoke. “Of the dozens of options you had at your fingertips like the edible panties,” he paused for a kiss, “the big purple dildo which frankly has me intimidated,” another delay to graze and caress, “and the vibrators,” this time his tongue flicked out to tease along her spine, “you passed them all by and chose bondage. My kinky baby wants to be tied up.”

Her throat suddenly clogged with emotion and her protest came out as a squeak.

“Shh, no talking; the kit didn’t have a gag, so you’ll have to be good and obey me. I want you to experience being under my total control. Not knowing what I’m doing, where I’ll touch you from one moment to the next.” His hands stroked her down her spine. “Or if I’ll lick you instead.” He matched words to action as he spoke, his tongue following his hands to the curve at the small of her back. His lips brushed back up until she felt the length of his big body above her, the heat pouring off him making her burn with a sensual fire in her aroused state. “Or how I’ll fuck you.”

He lowered himself onto her and she discovered he was as bare as she was. His cock, full and ready, was not to be ignored as it nudged her thigh. “Oh, and let’s not forget, how I’ll paddle you.”

“Honey—”

“Uh-uh-uh, I think I told you to be quiet, naughty girl,” he scolded sternly, the underlying playfulness clear in his words. “Now you’ll have to be punished.”

Liquid warmth rushed to her pussy. Suddenly, the important conversation she planned to have with him didn’t seem as urgent anymore.

He shifted, his knees pressed between her thighs, spreading her wide. Gliding over her shoulders, his wide hands caressed in a long slow graze down her sides, pausing to test the outward swell of her breasts where they rested flat against the mattress, then continuing slowly over her waist and down to her hips. When they curled over her round bottom, they squeezed and at the same time separated the twin globes. The entire length of her steamy cleft was open to his gaze. She clenched.

“Relax.” A long finger traced over the tightly held hole, ringed the wet mouth of her channel, and then glided downward to test the hard little nub below. He teased it with his fingertip until she was squirming and tugging against her binds. Leaving, he moved up to collect more moisture from her pussy, moving slowly upward to explore the tight ring of her ass. “This tight little flower closes up like a touch-me-not. Have you ever seen one?”

She felt the warm, wet lick of his tongue between her cheeks and sucked in a gulp of air. She shook her head, confounded by his impromptu botany lesson at such a time.

“It’s also called the ‘sensitive plant.’ At the lightest touch, it snaps closed—demurely—like your shy little opening here. We’ll have to work on that bashfulness, because when I possess you here,” his finger circled the delicate skin before he continued, “I’ll want you to describe in detail how it feels because you are going to love it.”

“Marc,” she beseeched him, “please…”

A tsking noise tickled her ear before his hand landed with a searing swat on each cheek. “You’re not being very obedient in your first bondage session,
cara
. That’s the purpose of the paddle though, isn’t it, to correct disobedient girls?” His hands curled around her hips and he lifted her. “Up on your knees. Give me a nice high target for my paddle.”

She panted. His imposing voice, the evocatively naughty words, and his easy command of her body filled her with anticipation, making her heart pound faster. This was her fantasy—exactly. It was as if he’d tuned in to her brain’s wavelength and watched a tutorial entitled, ‘how to play out the perfect bondage scene with Jessie.’ She could feel the juices of her desire flowing. Unsurprisingly, Marc, who never missed a trick, noticed.

He ran his fingers along the moisture coating her inner thighs and then dipped in between her lips. Jessie heard the sound of her wetness as two of his fingers pumped inside her and her face ignited, her cheeks burning so hot she thought she would burst into flames.