Vulnerable (6 page)

Those BDSM sites had really gotten to her, but the real reason was that inference of safe power transfer. It had reassured her and taken her fear away. She bit back a giggle. Karma, fate, whatever. Doing the right thing by Emily on Friday night had its just rewards. Given that Ross’s cock was on a scale with his body size, she was glad that he had fit it inside of her. It had hurt a little, but the pleasure made the pain immaterial. She was tender for sure, but she’d be willing to go again if he could. She felt alive, different, and free from her past. Oh, it would bite her on the ass from time to time, but this man had said he was invested. She would believe him, trust for once. If he let her down, then she would somehow move on with her life as she had done before, but it felt right to take a chance. It felt right to want sex, especially with the control ceded. The deeply buried little niggle of doubt and worry was easily ignored after what they had just done. Elise slipped out of bed and went to that amazing bathroom. She didn’t even worry about being naked, when normally she was intensely modest. Her body, historically, had not been her friend, garnering attention from men very different from Ross, although they might not scruple at the differences. She was trying to get the tangles from her hair with Ross’s excuse for a hairbrush when she heard him behind her.

“Need some help, honey?”

Elise gave him her best smile. “You’ll pull it.”

“Nope, I’m a great hair brusher. Ask my nieces. They all vie for Uncle Ross to brush their hair whenever I see them.”

Elise handed it over and let him lead her back to the bedroom where he lowered her on the carpeted floor in front of the chair he eased himself into. She sat back between his naked thighs and shivered at the feel of the hair on his legs against her ribs and arms. He patiently worked at the knots and tangles until he could pull through the mass without any obstructions. Elise loved it. She drifted on the sensation and couldn’t think of anything that would change it.

“If you plan to volunteer at that soup kitchen again, Elise, you’ll wait until I can go with you,” Ross said.

Elise considered his tone. “Will you be able to go on a regular basis?” she asked.

“Probably not every Sunday, honey, but maybe once a month or so,” Ross answered. “I would hope that you and I will be doing different things on some Sundays. Volunteer work is important, and I’m now ashamed that I give money instead of my time, but charity begins at home.”

Elise hid her smile. “Okay.”

“When Norbert calls you, and I know he will, you can tell him that I’m your significant other, your boyfriend, your Dom. You choose.”

Elise turned to face him. She held him with her gaze, searching his features.

“I didn’t want to sound presumptuous, Ross,” she began.

“I know, honey,” he said. “That’s why you aren’t over my lap, getting spanked with this hair brush.”

Elise’s pussy clenched and moistened. She thought that maybe she should be naughty and see what happened. She had really liked the way her previous spanking made her feel by the end of it, even if she sensed there had to be more. Ross seemed to read her mind.

“Don’t worry, Elise. You’ll earn your share of punishments. Some you won’t like very well, so be careful what you wish for. I won’t tolerate you putting yourself at risk or challenging my authority.”

Elise fought arousal and annoyance in equal parts. They needed to clear some things up. The authority thing in the bedroom was okay, and it felt nice to have someone worry about her well-being. But if Ross pushed her in areas where she felt he was out of line, well, they would just have to see. Once again Ross garnered her thoughts.

“Communication, Elise, remember? As you pointed out, we just met. We’ll learn about one another, sweetheart, don’t worry. Now, let’s put some food together. We’re going to need the fuel.”

Elise hoped that meant more sex and took the shirt Ross offered her.

“I’d prefer you naked, and for the most part you will be when you are here with me, but it’s hard to cook naked, Elise. I’ve found that out by experience.”

Elise laughed at Ross’s grimace and followed him to the kitchen. He didn’t expect her to cook for him, he had bathed her, and he worried about her safety. So far the trade-off for his dominance and her submission was balancing out. Her heart gave a little jump to remind her that maybe this wasn’t all about sex. Elise ignored it. She wanted to enjoy herself and not worry about getting hurt. She wanted to be able to leave, with nothing to hold her, if things turned sour.

They put a decadent chicken salad together, working well as a team, decadent primarily because Ross deliberately dribbled poppy seed dressing on her chest, right at the opening of her shirt, in the hollow of her throat and then unbuttoned it, ostensibly to clean it off. Only he had licked it from her, using his tongue in wicked ways, working down her body until he knelt between her thighs, spreading her folds to suckle at her clit. That little bundle of nerves had been poking and ready for him when he’d arrived there, and Elise forgot all about her empty stomach as her climax overtook her. Ross had grinned up at her, her arousal coating his lips and chin, and Elise’s heart flip-flopped. Whatever she felt must have shown on her face, because he had surged to his feet to pull her to him and take her mouth in what felt like a heartfelt pledge. Elise didn’t dare question it but hugged the moment to herself, even as that reaction actually worried her, and the little niggle got a bit louder.

For the first time in his entire working life, Ross felt the hours drag by, and he checked his watch obsessively. He had taken Elise home midevening, after their meal and a couple of hours of cuddling and talking on his couch, for despite his urging her to stay overnight with him, she insisted she had to prepare for her Monday classes. Ross suspected that, while it might have been partly true, she also wanted some time away from him again to process their relationship. Relationship. Now, that was a word he was altogether unfamiliar with, truth to be told, but one he was rapidly becoming comfortable with. He didn’t have her landline number, but had already called her cell twice and had to be content with the sound of her voice on her message. He couldn’t tell anything much from those brief words.
You’ve reached Elise Cooper. Please leave your message.

The sound of her voice made the little hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and Ross couldn’t think of a thing to say the first time he called, instead fumbling to punch the phone off before he was caught sucking air like some kind of breather stalker. He was initially proud of the message he left the second time, advising her it was Ross Lassiter and to call him, and then immediately after he hung up and reflected on it, felt like an ass. As if she had more than one Ross in her life! Ross
Lassiter
. As if she might have forgotten his name! Shit, he hadn’t said anything hot, or sweet, or even Dom-like. He didn’t know where she worked either so he couldn’t send her flowers there. He hadn’t sent a woman flowers since Mother’s Day, and his mom had taken him to task for wasting his money instead of calling.

He had it bad, whatever it was, and this smiling off into the distance and remembering how she had tasted and how her eyes looked when she came, the sounds she made…Ross got a grip. He had to finish the quote he’d been working on, and then he would pick Elise up as arranged. They would go out to dinner and continue learning about one another outside of the bedroom. Elise had secrets, although she only alluded to them and avoided providing any information that would give him insight. Ross wanted to know what they were and if they would interfere with or affect their relationship. That word again. Well, he would help her and see where the relationship went. That settled, he focused and got it done.

* * * *

Elise pulled her classroom door shut and tested the lock. It had been the most bizarre day. For the first time ever, she had been distracted from her teaching, and a couple of the students had remarked on it, although thinking she was ill. She knew that her pale cheeks and the dark shadows under her eyes that makeup hadn’t concealed had lent credence to that belief, and while she hadn’t agreed with their assumption, hadn’t denied it either. The hours had dragged, and she had hidden several yawns and then forgotten to assign a reading project. She wasn’t certain how she had made it through the day and knew she had to pull herself together and do her job. She owed her students the best she could offer, because she knew how hard it was to get a high school diploma many years after adolescence, especially when the education was provided in such a concentrated format. She herself had taken her final year as a young adult before going on to get a teaching certificate.

After Ross had driven her home, she’d puttered around her apartment, making ready for her classes the following day, choosing her clothes and packing her briefcase, putting together a lunch, when her mom called. Elise talked with her mother at least once a week, and was glad she had been home for the call, because she hadn’t given a thought to her family since Friday night, and her mom in particular was her anchor. She told her mom a little about Ross, omitting where they had met, but her mother picked up on something and provided a little lecture out of love and concern that succeeded in challenging everything Elise had come to believe about herself of late. It challenged everything she believed since she had met Ross. In the discerning focus of her mother’s worry, the impetuous weekend took on a whole new light. It totally brought back the past, and the unspoken questioning of her intelligence changed everything in her new perspective. History was repeating itself, and she hadn’t learned a damned thing. Her mother intimated it, and Elise believed it, falling back into the horrid memories of that time, asking herself how she could have been so stupid again.

She laid awake much of the night, trying to hold onto the memory of Ross’s last fierce kiss that still felt branded on her mouth, but her mom’s advice and her past colored her thoughts and overtook her. She tentatively touched her lips now, and tried to focus. She had taken a warm bath and warmed up some milk, but neither had helped her sleep. The marks of passion Ross had left on her body showed up even clearer after the bath, silently mocking her attempts to put things into perspective.

Elise had even tried making a physical list of pros and cons about their relationship. Fourteen years was a long time between this kind of thing, and while she had done her own kind of healing, she couldn’t help but accept that this was going in the wrong direction, just as her mother implied. Surely nothing this intense could be a good thing, just as her first marriage hadn’t been. She had married Terry at age seventeen, a union supported by the patriarchal society she had lived in, trusting that he would take care of her and that their marriage would reflect the ones around her, like the one her parents had. Terry had been twenty-four, a mechanic at the local gas station, and a man favored by her father because of his work ethic and ability to support a wife and family. Her mom was less impressed, because she didn’t approve of how Terry’s dad behaved toward his mother, but really only had suspicions that anything really untoward took place. For her part, Elise had been smitten by the handsome and experienced man who romanced her and swept her off her feet with such flattery. Their sex life had really been quite amazing, because she was eager and Terry an able, patient teacher, at least in the beginning. The sex had been all they had really had, and she hadn’t realized her husband was simply grooming her for what was to come.

The Cooper clan was notoriously close-knit and closemouthed. It was like Vegas. What happened in their homes, stayed there, and Elise had gotten out with her family’s support and only because her mother had stopped by that day. Elise quit thinking about that time. It was in the past, and if she was seeing parallels in this thing with Ross, then she should be running for her life. She wished she hadn’t let him know where she lived, hadn’t been so impulsive, and wondered how to tell him to leave her alone or at the very least, slow down. She suspected she wouldn’t be able to tell Ross Lassiter anything, and it was too late to slow things down. She had been foolish again, starry-eyed with lust and excitement. And hope. She ached inside.

She walked out to her car and considered her options while she sat behind the wheel, and a tap on the window forced a startled cry from her lips. Elise looked up into Emily’s indignant face and quickly rolled the window down.

“I thought you were going to call me after you finished at the soup kitchen! I called you at home and called your cell over and over, but you didn’t pick up. I had to take the bus this morning.”

Elise felt her face flush with guilt. She had forgotten about her promise to Emily, forgotten that she had offered to pick her up and drive her to work this morning because Em’s car was in the shop. She’d forgotten because she was getting involved with a man who could hurt her in all the ways she had been hurt in the past and probably break her heart, too, and there was the really important reason to put a lid on it. She smiled apologetically at her friend.

“Sorry, Emily. I had something come up that distracted me, and I can’t apologize enough. Hop in. I’ll drive you home and maybe we can order in and then catch a movie or something.”

Emily looked at her with her usual hauteur and then shrugged, walking around to snatch open the passenger door and slide inside. “Okay,” she said. “But I’m still ticked with you. What was going on, anyhow?”

Elise did her absolute best not to let on that anything out of the ordinary had taken place. Instead, she said her mom had called with some bad news, not really so far from the truth, and then rummaged in her purse and fished out her cell. As usual she had forgotten to turn it on, so she waved it at Emily to show her why her calls had gone unanswered. She powered it up, and Emily was distracted by the number of her calls on the screen. She folded her arms and sat back in the seat with a huff. Elise scrolled ahead and deleted Emily’s number until she came to one she didn’t recognize but knew anyhow. She forced her finger to press the delete key and nearly dropped the phone when the voice mail came up. She punched in her code and held the phone to her ear as though it might bite her, carefully screening her face from Emily’s now puzzled, if impatient stare. Ross’s voice, well remembered despite their short acquaintance, spoke briefly in her ear, dispassionate and abrupt, almost formal. The message belied their time together. There was no affection, nothing but arrogance and entitlement, and Elise realized her mother was right to worry, right to remind her, and that she was right to pack it in while she still could. She snapped the phone closed and turned it off again.