Promise For Now

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Promise for Now ISBN 9781419915086 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Promise for Now Copyright © 2008 Diana Hunter Edited by Pamela Campbell. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication April 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

PROMISE FOR NOW

Diana Hunter

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Grateful Dead: Grateful Dead Productions Corp.

Promise for Now

Chapter One “Well, there. Now it’s final and he’s out of the house. Good riddance!” “Susan, stop it. Mike and I had twenty-five good years. He was—is—still a good man.” Carol Iderman pulled her SUV into Susan’s driveway, suddenly desperate to get rid of her best friend. Her head pounded and she wondered just why she had felt the need for someone to go with her to the lawyer’s office to sign the divorce papers. Susan wanted to celebrate and all Carol wanted to do was go crawl under a rock and cry. “We just married too young. And with Mike Jr. and Alexa both out of college and on their own now…well, it’s better this way.” “Yeah, put a good face on it for everyone else, woman. Not for me. I know all the gory details, remember? The cheating, the arguments? Personally? I’m thrilled you finally wised up. You spent the best years of your life with that lying cheat.” Susan opened the passenger door and got out, getting in one last comment before she shut the door and righteously stalked into her expensive suburban home. “Stop looking at the past through rose-colored glasses, Carol or you’ll make the same mistakes again.” Carol watched Susan’s exit, keeping a stranglehold on her emotions. She put the SUV into reverse, drove to the other side of the suburban development and pulled into her own garage. The overhead door whirred and clicked, descending behind her. Still gritting her teeth, she dismounted from the huge car that Mike had talked her into when all she had wanted was a small runabout. He claimed the vehicle would be far safer for her on the highways and never mind the money—they had enough. For Carol, it wasn’t about the money—it was the size of the darn thing. While she wasn’t tiny by any means, the SUV still wasn’t easy for her to manage. She had perfected a little twisthop that allowed her to get down fairly gracefully and it irked her every time she had to do it.

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She did it now, landing on the clean cement floor of the garage. Who in their right mind had clean garage floors? Where were the grease spots left by leaky motors or peeled rubber tracks from the kid’s bicycles? Where were the broken skates and loose basketballs that always got underfoot? They were on another floor in another garage, one not attached to an expensive home but one that was all by itself—a different garage behind a different house. That well-used garage sat away from the driveway, its sides canted at odd angles looking like its best years were long ago. It held secrets and cubbyholes and had paint circles on the floor from the iron coffee table she’d bought used and had repainted. A little elbow grease and spray paint and the thing had looked charming out on the large porch. Then they’d moved out of the city—and the suburbs had no need for old garages or large porches. The wrought iron table had been sold along with so many other memories. Her eyes filled with the tears she had yet to shed and Carol fled. Not into the cold “home” Mike had insisted they buy two years ago because he’d become so important that living inside the city limits wasn’t fashionable enough. Not back into the awful SUV she drove because it was all she had. No, she fled to the backyard and to the only place she’d ever really called her own in this upscale suburban development. Her gaze only briefly ran to the yard right behind hers, a yard owned by a man she’d often thought of in her fantasies, but who, until now, had been off limits. And while she understood the new possibilities, right now she still grieved the destruction of her first love. Tucked into a back corner of their full-acre lot sat a little dollhouse of a storage shed, its proportions dictated by the housing tract rules, its outside décor one of three she’d been allowed to choose from. With a full two-car garage, Mike hadn’t seen the need for a shed in the backyard at all. Carol had added it to the list as just one more thing he never really understood about her. Fitting the key into the lock, she opened the small double doors and inhaled the scent of fresh earth and sanity.

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“Best years of her life.” Susan’s words echoed in her soul. Were the years she had spent with Mike the best years she’d ever see? They’d married for the hot sex and flames of passion. Two kids into the marriage, the flames had died down and eventually even the embers cooled, leaving little to sustain their relationship. Mike had turned from her birth-ravaged body to find the heat again in another woman’s arms…and then another’s…and another’s. Carol’s well of self-esteem, never overflowing to begin with, sank each time Mike came home smelling of someone else’s perfume and looking sated and relaxed. With her self-esteem now fallen to the level of her ankles, Carol sat in her little dollhouse of a garden shed and cried herself to sleep.

***** On the street behind Carol’s, Brian Stockbridge stood in his kitchen and looked at the pile of dirty dishes he’d accumulated after a week spent doing research. He always got this way when working on a book. Each time he started a new project, he’d spend time gathering every scrap of information he could find that might provide useful background for his story. Then he’d spend as few as five or as many as twelve days— his record—totally immersing himself into the world his characters would inhabit. Nothing penetrated his concentration as he explored every aspect of the world taking shape in his imagination. His ex-wife had often complained that she could set off a bomb next to him while he was in research mode and he’d never even notice. After setting off several bombs, she had finally grown tired of his mental departures and had made a departure of her own. That had been a little over two years ago and Brian had barely noticed. Except when it came to housework. He didn’t mind doing it as a rule. When he was writing, however, he entered another world where reality ceased to exist and the dishes he used for microwavable meals and take-out Chinese became unimportant trivia. Seven days worth of dirty plates, cereal bowls and aluminum tin trays lay scattered around his kitchen, filling the sink and running amok over the countertops. A nearly 7

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empty milk carton sat beside the refrigerator where he’d poured himself a glass and then forgotten to put the carton back. Unable to ignore the mess any longer, Brian dumped the sour milk down the drain and gathered the dishes into a pile beside the sink. Tempted as he was to hire a maid to come clean up after him, he knew the housework was good for his soul. Kept him grounded. Or it did when he came up for air. Running water into the sink and squirting in a whole lot of dish soap, Brian glanced out his kitchen window, then did a double take as he looked across his backyard toward the Idermans’ shed. A high-heeled foot stuck out the door. That would be Carol’s! Frantically searching for his cell phone, he rifled through several week-old newspapers and threw them aside, found a clean pile of laundry he’d done a week ago and forgotten about underneath them and discovered his extra set of car keys that he’d lost before he finally managed to find his cell on the counter hiding behind the toaster. Running out the door and across his backyard, he dialed 911 as he went. As his fingers punched out the numbers, he called out across the distance. “Carol! Carol, are you all right?” Brian cursed the fact that he couldn’t run as fast at forty-five as he had in high school. His records might all be behind him, yet he still managed to vault the low chain-link fence that separated their yards in one leap even as he heard the operator’s voice coming from his cell. “Yeah, I’m Brian Stockbridge. My neighbor’s down…her address is 855 Honeysuckle Lane. Wait…” He’d reached the shed of the door. Carol lay with her head pillowed on one arm, the other arm tucked up neatly underneath her. One leg curled up as well but the other had stretched out, the foot visible from his window. “I’m with her now. She’s in the shed in the backyard.” Brian bent down and touched her shoulder, reaching for her wrist to check for a pulse. When she started, he jumped, almost dropping the phone in his surprise. “Carol? Carol, are you all right?”

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“Brian?” She looked up at him sleepily, her tear-stained face filling in a lot of information without her needing to say a word. She shook her head. “I must’ve fallen asleep.” Brian sat back on his heel, heaving a sigh of relief. “You’re all right?” “Yes, of course I am. I just…” Her voice trailed off and she made a feeble gesture at the gardening tools. Brian nodded and spoke into his phone. “Okay, apparently I reacted too fast. Sorry. She’d fallen asleep.” He shook his head. “No, don’t need any assistance. Thank you for your time.” Hanging up, he made a mental note to send a large donation to the ambulance corps to make up for calling before making sure there was an actual emergency. He wouldn’t have jumped the gun for any other person, he knew. But that was Carol’s foot that had been lying out there. Carol, two years his junior, who had raised a family and been torn from the home she loved in the city to come out here into the soulless suburbs. Ever since she and her husband had moved in behind him, Brian had watched her. The innate sexuality she didn’t even realize she had, the way she looked with that big floppy hat on when she was gardening, the way she bent over to pick up the clothes when doing the laundry. God, the woman was hard to resist. Especially since his own wife had left him for someone who spent more time in the real world. Brian had encouraged Carol to confide in him, each conversation with her making him more and more intrigued with this woman who so obviously felt out of place among the soccer mom crowd. And then that husband of hers would walk into the backyard with a proprietary scowl on his face and Brian knew better than to push her. He didn’t think Michael had gotten physically abusive, yet Brian was pretty sure Carol’s lack of faith in herself came from him. Instead Brian remained at a safe distance, encouraging Carol to use him as vent friend while keeping out of Michael’s sight, secretly lusting after the beautiful woman so unappreciated by her career-climbing husband.

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A month ago, Michael had dropped out of sight and Carol had stopped the confidences, becoming distant and aloof. She’d hurry right into the house even when Brian knew she’d seen him working in his yard, where before she’d make some excuse to linger so they could exchange more than a few friendly words. While at first Carol had been a pleasant distraction when he needed a break from his writing, over the years she’d become a friend and her sudden cold shoulder confused him. Today, however, none of that mattered. She was in trouble and he literally had leapt to her rescue. “So you want to tell me why you’ve taken to sleeping in the shed?” He held out a hand and she took it, the warmth of her sleep where her hand had cuddled her cheek still clinging to her fingers. The smile she gave him, tremulous and self-deprecating, was the same smile she gave when making excuses for Michael. All at once Brian didn’t care if the man was his neighbor. If he’d been in the yard, Brian would have decked him. “I…Brian, I know I’ve been a little stand-offish lately…” She ducked her head again and Brian put his fingers under her chin to see her face. “What’s wrong, Carol?” “The divorce is final.” Brian took a step back in surprise. Although he’d encouraged her to consider leaving Michael, he’d never thought she’d have the courage to go through with it. She’d tried once before and had backed down before the final act. Did she mean it? Was she really free? “Completely? As in the two of you are no longer legally married?” “Completely. I just came from the courthouse.” She should be celebrating and instead she looked as if she’d just lost her best friend. Which, in a way, she had. A friend who had ceased to exist a long time ago, yet her heart was just getting around to understanding that. Although Brian wanted desperately to pull her into his arms and give her the kiss he’d been holding inside for

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such a long time, he kept his distance, feeling his way around her psyche. “Are you okay?” Her smile this time had more strength behind it. “Actually, I am. Now. I just needed a good cry.” She gestured around the shed and Brian realized the rest of the story. “And now that you’ve done that? What’s next?” Carol put her head down again, twisting her fingers in the way Brian had seen her do when talking about Michael. “I don’t really know.” He watched her glance at the house and saw the disgust in her eyes. “I hate that place, you know.” “You have since you moved in.” “But it’s mine now. I took it and the SUV in place of alimony.” She shuddered. “I want him out of my life. I don’t want to see him or hear him or even hear of him for…for…for a very long time!” She slammed her foot down for emphasis, which made Brian chuckle. “I promise you, he’s not a topic of conversation I will ever bring up.” For the first time since he’d pulled her from the shed floor, Carol actually looked him full in the eye. The effect was electric. He wanted to kiss her. Right now. After two years, he didn’t want to wait even a single second longer. In a single movement, he swept her into his arms, knowing she fit perfectly even as his lips descended.

Carol felt her breath catch and her knees threaten to buckle as Brian’s kiss poured out months of frustration. She’d longed for exactly this moment, her desires kept hidden lest Michael discover her lust for their neighbor and use it against her. With her own ardent reply to his kiss, she let Brian know exactly where she stood. “Oh, Brian, I missed seeing you so much,” she breathed in the brief hiatus before his mouth covered hers again. Her arms encircled his neck as he pushed her against the outside wall of the shed and she opened her lips willingly when his tongue lightly brushed against them.

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But instead of pressing his advantage, Brian suddenly stepped back as if he’d touched something incredibly hot. He dropped his hands to his sides, his face a mask. “I’m sorry, Carol. I shouldn’t have done that.” “Why not?” Her lips burned from his kiss and she wanted more. “You just divorced your husband an hour ago. To take advantage of you now would be…well…” His voice trailed off. “Would be wonderful,” she finished for him. “Brian, I’m not nearly as vulnerable as you think. Michael deserved what he got. Well, so did I. I put up with him and his shenanigans far too long.” She waved away his protest in her newfound independence. She wasn’t married to Michael any longer. Maybe Susan was right and it was high time she took control of her own life. “I’m not just talking about his affairs. I mean the way he talked down to me as the years went on, the attitude. The more he fooled around, the more he tried to blame me for his own faults. And I let him because I remembered the Michael I married and somehow thought I was to blame. “But I wasn’t. I see that now. I do deserve better. So kiss me, Brian. And know I’ve wanted that kiss from you for a very long time.” Brian shook his head and frowned, not understanding her. “No. You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” Carol smiled at his wounded ego. “One word—Michael.” She shook her head ruefully. “Because of all his infidelities, he knew the settlement would go against him in the divorce. But if I had also had an affair, he would have had a weapon against me.” She stepped closer to him, her hands reaching out to touch the magnificent muscles of Brian’s chest. So strong, so handsome. “He thought we were having an affair?” She stepped back and gave Brian time to understand her. “No. But he’s not a stupid man. He saw how much time I spent ‘gardening’ and talking with you over the back fence.” Carol wanted to forget Michael, wanted to erase the years she’d wasted with him when, for all this time, such an incredibly powerful man had lived so near. Over 12

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the past two years, Carol had memorized every line of Brian’s face, every shade of his skin from the healthy ruddiness of his cheeks to the smooth tan of his brow. She knew how pale he got in the winter when he wouldn’t emerge for weeks and she had to coax him out with offers of hot chocolate and how his dark eyes would smolder over the steaming cup as a part of his mind remained with the characters inside. And how the summer sun brought out several small freckles left over from boyhood that still clung to the bridge of his nose. Now he stood before her in a tattered old Grateful Dead T-shirt and jeans and she thought he’d never looked so sexy. The graceful curve of his dark eyebrows accentuated his deep blue eyes. Did Brian’s eyes change as his moods did? Suddenly she wanted to spend the rest of the day and long into the night finding out. She stepped toward him again, intending to claim a kiss of her own. “Carol, I need to stop you before you let yourself go too far with me. Make no mistake. I want you.” Brian took her in his arms, brushing her hair from her face, looking like he wasn’t sure she was real. “I’ve wanted you a long time. But I have different tastes when it comes to sex. Tastes that most women find…hard to take.” “I know.” Carol’s eyes flashed as a sexy smile curved her lips. “I’ve read your books. All of them.” His fingers reached up and curled into her shoulder-length hair, tugging it lightly. “Then you know I like it rough…that I believe pleasure and pain go hand-in-hand.” A thrill chased all along her spine and threatened to undo her. “You can’t hurt me more than I want to be hurt.” Physical pain would chase away the lingering demons, the niggling thoughts that still tried to tell her she was the one who had failed the marriage. She was the one not worthy of Michael’s time. Brian’s hand slid down to her breast, the backs of his fingers sliding over the satin blouse she had worn to the courthouse. With a sudden movement, he grabbed her breast, his fingers mauling her flesh through the fabric. With his other hand in her hair,

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she couldn’t move away from his sudden invasion of her private space…and didn’t want to. She thrust her breast toward him, inviting his roughness. Brian looked into Carol’s dark brown eyes and saw his own longing reflected there. “And now that the papers are signed and you’re officially divorced?” “I want you to make love to me, Brian. Show me what it means to be loved again.” He descended on her like a man too long deprived of what he needed. His lips closed over hers, his tongue probing until she opened to him, tasting and possessing her mouth. His hand slid around her back and he took control…not letting her go even when her hand came up to push on his chest because she couldn’t breathe. His cock pressed into her thigh and he rubbed it against her, letting her know exactly how much her words had affected him. “Take me away from here, Brian. Take me away from this hateful house and this hateful car and this hateful yard.” Passion flared in Carol’s eyes, a passion to run from her past mixed with a sexual lust for him. Brian didn’t need a second invitation. Scooping her petite form into his arms, he carried her across her yard toward his house. She snuggled and nuzzled his neck the entire way over, not stopping until they reached the small gate in the fence that separated their two properties. When he paused, she reached down, unlatched it and Brian kicked it open, neither of them caring that it didn’t shut behind them. What was going to escape from one yard to the other that hadn’t already? If she noticed the mess in the kitchen, Carol never said a word about it and Brian carried her all the way into his living room before setting her down and roughly pushing her away from him. As a result, she lost her balance and fell onto the soft couch that stretched beneath the front windows. “Strip.” The vulgar command had exactly the effect on her he wanted. Her eyes flared with anger that warred with arousal. Her lust won. She stood to face him, almost defiantly ripping her clothes from her body until she stood before him totally naked. 14

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“Turn around and put your hands on the cushions.”

Carol’s soul ached for his force, ached for a man who not only knew what he wanted but who wanted her. She turned and bent over, presenting her ass to him for the first time, her cheeks coloring a little at her wantonness. When the first slap came, she wasn’t surprised and she welcomed the smarting pain that warmed her ass. “You need discipline…and strength.” He punctuated each word with a hard slap from his hand and Carol savored the sting. Over a year ago she had read his first book with naïve eyes—eyes that were opened and taught by his words. A new world lay before her and she devoured every story he’d written as well as dozens of other books where BDSM played a prominent role. She longed to try something new, something different from the plain old sex she had with her husband…when he deigned to remember he was married. How many times had she fantasized about being under Brian’s domination over the past year? How many times had she come at her own hand when her husband was off with someone else? How many times had she come while pretending Brian was her Dom or Master? Michael had never noticed, of course. He’d long since stopped paying attention to her in the bedroom. The hundreds of dollars Carol had spent on fancy negligees and sexy underwear had gone to waste in her attempts to interest him in her body. Now she was totally naked and Brian’s hard-on evident under his pants as he gave her ass a spanking. She grinned as another strong slap stung her ass and gave voice to her desires. “Yes, sir. Teach me discipline. Teach me how to be strong.”

Brian had lost count of the number of times he’d masturbated to the thought of Carol bent over, her ass reddened from his hand. The thought of her submitting to his will, of her begging him for her pleasure, begging for him to give her the release she craved, had been fodder for many a late-night session. And here she was, bent over his 15

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couch, doing exactly that. Not only was she not afraid of him, she welcomed and wanted the physical power that he expressed only in sex. He grabbed a fistful of her dark hair and pulled her upright again, determined to show her the most sinister parts of his desires. Although he’d been her confidant for all this time, he had no clue how she’d take what he could dish out. How far would she go? He turned her to face him and the look she gave him was full of trust and desire and longing. Again the anger swelled in him that Michael hadn’t seen the treasure in his own bed. This was a woman who longed to be fucked and fucked often…something he intended to do very soon to her. He fisted her hair at the nape of her neck. “You like this don’t you.” It wasn’t a question and he didn’t wait for an answer. “You like it rough.” She nodded against his hand, a small whimper coming from the back of her throat as she leaned on him for support. He deliberately kept her off balance, forcing her mind to constantly adapt to the changes he threw at her. God, she was beautiful! Brian propelled her toward his basement door, pausing to release her while still in the kitchen. While there, he changed tactics, taking her more gently into his arms as he explained his expectations. She’d never be able to say she hadn’t been warned. “I will give you several opportunities to refuse me, Carol. This is one of them. And because what we’re about to do isn’t something you have experience with, I want you to think of a traffic light.” He smiled, but there was little mirth in his voice. It was important she be given a way out if she needed it, but she needed to understand he wasn’t going to coddle her. “I won’t ask you for a status report, but if you need to, I expect to hear ‘yellow’ if you need to pause and ‘red’ if you need to stop. Otherwise, I’ll assume you are on ‘green’. Do you understand?” She nodded and a lock of hair slipped to her cheek. “Yes...a traffic light makes it easy to remember.” Brian slid the lock of hair back behind her ear. “Never doubt that I want you…that I’ve wanted you for a very long time. You’ve read my books so you know what’s down 16

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in that basement.” He grinned. “Maybe not as lavishly furnished as the dungeons in my novels but…” He shrugged and left the end of the sentence hanging. “If you walk down those steps, I expect you to give me control over your body and mind. All the responsibilities get handed over to me. You give up everything. You walk down those stairs and I am in charge.” A slow smile spread over Carol’s face. She leaned her head against Brian’s shoulder almost as if she were drinking in his strength. For several heartbeats, she basked in the comfort of his arms before stepping back and looking at him with calm acceptance. “I’m ready.” He gestured to the steps and Carol calmly walked to them and descended.

No responsibilities? No thoughts, nothing but obedience for a short time to a man who wanted her company and her body? How could she refuse? Her pussy ached to be touched and the places where his hands brushed against her skin burned for more. Brian exuded a calm strength and honesty and caring. Carol stepped onto the basement floor with trust and confidence. Like many suburban houses, the stairs faced the wall leaving only a few feet between the last step and the foundation of the house. She had to turn right or left to continue and paused, wondering which way lay his dungeon. “Go left.” He hadn’t turned the basement light on but enough brightness filtered down from above that she could easily see a clear area immediately to her left. She stepped next to the wall and waited for him, shivering a little in the damper, chillier air. Brian stepped beside her, put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “I’ll warm that skin plenty. You won’t be cold for long.”

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Chapter Two The fact that Carol had read one of his books didn’t really shock him. He knew her well enough to know she’d be curious. The fact that she’d read every one he’d written, however, did surprise him. She’d asked for disciplining without prompting and now stood in his basement, shivering and ready to do his will. In the darkness, his smile was wry as he considered whether maybe he should be thanking Michael for being such a jerk that she had come to his arms for release and comfort. Brian flipped a switch and a single bare bulb cast shadows over the various pieces of equipment scattered around the otherwise-empty basement. His skill lay with words, not with furniture building and the pieces that sat in the corners had all been ordered online and then assembled here. While he’d had his share of subs over the years, most of them had been for research purposes and he’d paid them well. Ever since his wife had left him, he hadn’t had a steady partner. Would Carol be more than a one-time participant? There was only one way to find out. Without another word, he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the middle of the room where a large hook and pulley hung from the ceiling—an antique wood and metal contraption. Brian had picked it up at a garage sale and found it useful for suspending women for their mutual pleasure. “Put your hands behind your back.” When she obeyed, he looped a length of white clothesline around her wrists and began tying them together. “Have you ever been tied so tightly you couldn’t escape?” “I’ve never been tied up, period. Well, when we were kids and we played cops and robbers…” Carol paused to grin as Brian wound the clothesline around her wrists. “Somehow I always managed to get tied up.” “That was your submissive tendencies coming out even then.” 18

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“It wasn’t sexual, though. Just…fun.” Brian nodded as he tied off the clothesline. “Not sexual, but you still knew you wanted it.” She smiled as she moved her arms, testing to see how strong the bonds were. A flush came to her cheeks as the lack of movement excited her. He pulled her into his arms. “You are an incredibly sexy woman, do you know that?” Carol blushed and Brian realized she truly didn’t understand her own ability to arouse men. While at this point he’d never gone out in public with her, he was sure when they did, he’d see men’s heads turn to look, to watch her pass by. She might be firmly in middle age along with him but he was living proof that men’s desires didn’t stop just because they got older. Carol’s body had borne two children and yet she still remained trim and fit and healthy. He stepped back and ran a palm over her belly, noting the few stretch marks she bore as signs of motherhood. He traced one with his finger. “This shows you’re not afraid of a little pain.” She snorted. “Delivering babies is not a little pain, thank you very much. I worked hard for those scars.” He put his face near hers. “Then a few scars more won’t bother you in the least, will they?” Brian had no intention of doing anything to her that would leave a scar but the mind-fuck was worth the sudden look of fear and arousal on her face. He didn’t need to touch her to know her pussy was soaked by the thought of his doing physical harm to her. To her credit, she swallowed hard and shook her head even as her voice squeaked when she answered him. “Not in the least…no.” He pinched her nipples, just a little to make them hard, then picked up a coil of leather from a shelf off to the side. The strip had been specifically cut no wider than his forefinger so that it would provide a good strong surface for what he was about to do. 19

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Keeping hold of one end, he dropped the other to slap on the floor, watching her as he did so. She remained still, eyeing him with wary interest. So far, so good. His fingers found the middle as he continued to torment her with his words. “Have you ever had your tits tied?” She shook her head, her eyes now focused on the leather in his hands. He wrapped the leather around her right breast, sliding the ends through the doubled center and pulling it tight. Her gasp was music to him. “You like this?” He waited for her to nod and when she did so, he pulled her up onto her tiptoes, sliding his free hand through her parted legs. His fingers found her dripping pussy and he rubbed it hard, bringing her to the brink of a climax. But only to the brink. He didn’t want her to come just yet. Let it build…and be worth the effort he was putting into it. “Looks like you like it a lot.” He relaxed the tension and let her back onto her heels as he brought his wet fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, tasting her musky gift. A small whimper came from her again as she watched him and Brian was pretty sure her sex with Michael had never given her such a reaction. He took the leather and wrapped another few lengths of it around her breast, seating it and pulling it taut. Tying it off, he let a long end dangle down as he picked up a matching coil and looped it around her other breast. When he pulled it tight, she rose onto her toes and danced a bit as she found her balance. He just grinned at her and once she was stable again, she grinned back.

Carol couldn’t deny Brian’s skill had already brought her close to an orgasm several times. The books he wrote had titillated her in the long, dark months she had needed to find her courage yet she’d never expected the reality to make her feel so incredibly alive. Her skin tingled and every nerve ending reached out, eager to feel more. When he tightened the leather around her breasts, her knees felt weak while her soul felt liberated. The oxymoron of being bound to feel free wasn’t lost on her. 20

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She particularly enjoyed the look in Brian’s eyes. One of determination, though she wasn’t entirely sure what he was determined to do. Bind her? That much was obvious. Have sex with her? She certainly hoped so. Hurt her? He hadn’t so far. Although other women might not like this kind of treatment, she loved it and, with her eyes, she begged for more. He gave it to her. From his erotic tales of kink and fetish, she’d expected him to play with her bound breasts. A Wartenburg wheel perhaps? Maybe wax. When he pulled the rope down from the pulley, she understood that Brian in real life was much more nefarious. Tying off the ends of the leather and slipping them over the metal hook, he reached behind him to an old-fashioned crank. A few turns and the slack was taken up. Another half turn and she was forced onto her toes, her breasts turning pink from the tight leather combined with supporting her own weight. She tried to find her balance, only partially succeeding. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brian watching her from the shadows. The bare light bulb spread its harsh light and Carol understood that even though the ceiling wasn’t high, it would be high enough for him to pick her up off her feet entirely. Torn between wanting it and wanting to run from the soreness, she only moaned as she spread her legs a little to steady herself. “Very nice dance.” Brian’s voice was dry as Carol tried to remain as still as she could. “I think I need to see more.” She heard the sound of the cane before she actually saw it in his hands. He split the air with it in several forceful strokes and she winced, her body stepping backward to get away from him in spite of her mind’s willingness. Except that the leather pulled her breasts and she didn’t move but a few inches. “What? You don’t think you’d like to feel the sting of the cane?” He stepped into the light, coming to stand directly in front of her. When had he taken off his T-shirt? Strong shoulders told her he could hurt her a lot with that thin piece of bamboo. When 21

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he lowered his voice, she shivered. “You don’t even know where I intend to use it on you.” She didn’t. Would he strike her bound breasts? Breasts that longed for his touch? Would he stripe her ass and make her dance to his tune? She didn’t care. She only knew she wanted it. Her voice cracked as she begged him. “Use it where you want. I’m yours to play with.”

Her words inflamed him so much that he needed to give his cock some room. From all their conversations, Brian had gathered there was far more to Carol Iderman than her public persona let her show. Now he had proof hanging here in his basement. Walking slowly, he circled around behind her. Once she couldn’t see him, he slid down the zipper on his jeans and gave his cock room, then slid them off and kicked them into a dark corner. He’d find them later. Maybe. His briefs followed and he stood behind her, cane in hand once more and naked as the day he was born. Brian grinned, okay, maybe he hadn’t been born with a hard-on but he certainly enjoyed having one now. Rubbing his free hand over his shaft, he watched Carol teeter from one foot to the other as she waited for his blow. Except Brian wasn’t quite ready. She already was building up in her mind what was to come though he wanted more. She’d never been caned before and probably would be able to take only two, maybe three blows. He wanted each one to take her to the edge. He stepped behind her, using his free arm to pull her tight to his body, his cock pressing against her bound wrists. He felt her fingers open to touch him. “I like to hear the cries of pleasure, slave. I want to hear you scream for me.” The words had the intended effect. She moaned and leaned against him, even though it meant putting pressure on her breasts. Those wonderful mounds had turned a nice rose color and Brian ran his hand over them to check the temperature. Still warm. He had time enough to torment her mind and ass.

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Much as a golfer will take several practice swings before addressing the ball, Brian raised and lowered the cane against her ass without striking as he taught his arm the distance. Only when he was satisfied he had the right momentum did he actually swing to connect…hard.

Carol hadn’t intended to cry out. The several light touches he’d given her had allowed her time to prepare, or so she’d thought. She didn’t know which of the touches would be a real strike but she knew one of them would be and was ready for it. Although she wasn’t. The shock, the sting that lingered afterward, came as such a surprise that her voice gave him exactly what he wanted. Already on her toes, she had nowhere to go but forward, which pulled on her breasts, which caused her pussy to flood…she savored the moment as she hung on the brink of an orgasm. And then it passed and she righted herself, her breath coming in small gasps as the stroke faded to a sore warmth. Once more Brian touched her ass with the cane several times. Last time she’d counted four touches before the blow and unconsciously she counted again. This time, however, he only took three practice strikes before delivering the resounding blow to her ass and this time Carol sobbed through the burning as her body exploded in an orgasm. It was just so much more than she expected and she had no control over herself as waves of pleasure coursed through her bound body. She didn’t even feel his next aiming touches and when the third blow landed, her orgasm skyrocketed her to new heights and her body convulsed in pleasure.

Carol had responded even better than Brian had hoped she would, coming over and over again as the pain coursed through her. Dropping the cane to the floor, he untied her wrists with a quick pull on the rope then held her body close to his as he used the crank to lower her. Slipping the leather bindings off the hook, he held her in his arms and kissed her as her body racked out the last vestiges of her orgasm. He 23

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invaded her mouth, possessing her climax, his fingers finding her clit and urging her to go again. Her bound breasts pressed against his chest and his cock desperately wanted to plunge into her pussy depths, yet he tormented himself by waiting a little longer, forcing another orgasm from her tiring body. He’d brought down an old double bed several months ago when a woman he’d hired to enact a scene had complained that climbing the stairs after a session spoiled the mood. It wasn’t fancy—he’d bought the thing second hand. Of course, the people who’d sold him the bed would have a hard time recognizing it since Brian had finished refurbishing it. He’d strengthened the frame with thick wood, given the entire bed a glossy coat of black paint and added an assortment of hooks and eyes not only to the headboard and footboard but to the reinforced sides as well. The mattress, covered only with a thin sheet, gave him plenty of room to play, yet lent an air of purpose to the bed. There could be no doubt in anyone’s mind that this bed was no longer a place for sleep. Scooping her limp body into his arms, Brian carried Carol to the mattress and lay down beside her. Because he’d bound her breasts tightly, it took several moments to undo them. She tried to help except her fingers were feeble and her eyes not entirely focused. Brian grinned. He wasn’t through with her yet. After a few minutes’ rest, he suspected she would want more. She didn’t disappoint him. Snuggling into him, Carol lifted her face to his, inviting a kiss. He obliged, not really surprised at the passion she put behind it. She gave herself in that kiss, gave him permissions and begged for more. He’d need to do more than give her a few cane-stroke-induced orgasms to sate her. He responded to her implicit begging, mauling a now-unbound breast and listening to her whimpers as she pushed her chest toward him. Her arms clung to him, her hands restless, moving to touch every inch of his skin. When he pinned her legs with his own, she struggled—not to get away but to get her legs spread and wrapped around one of his muscular thighs so she could get relief from the pressures building inside her again.

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Brian had no intention of letting things go the way she wanted them. Well, not exactly the way she wanted them anyway. She’d get her orgasm several times over if he did his job right. And he’d get his. “Turn over, slave.” He pulled and pushed her onto her knees, her ass presented to him, her head pressed into the mattress. “I’m going to take you like the slave you are. I don’t ask your permission and I’m not going to be nice about it. Your body is mine.”

The clean scent of the sheets filled her nose and Carol wondered how many other women had been taken here. Did Brian do a lot of research? The tawdry basement setting fueled a desire inside her and when he grabbed her hands and yanked them back, holding them behind her with one hand while he used the other to position himself, she needed every ounce of restraint to keep from pushing back and impaling herself on his cock. He had her right where he wanted and his words shamed her even as they thrilled her. Her pussy throbbed, ready for his entrance. “Wait for me to come.” The tone of his voice brooked no disobedience. He still held her wrists in one hand and Carol felt his cock at her entrance then he slowly entered her. Brian took his time, whether out of a desire not to hurt her or a desire to tease her to distraction, Carol didn’t know. Whichever it was, his maddeningly slow pace drove her insane. “Oh God, Brian…you feel so good inside me.” He was large, she could tell from the pressure on her pussy. “Fill me with your cock,” she pleaded, pushing her cheek more firmly into the mattress as she angled her body so he could more easily enter her. Her heart pounded blood to her pussy in a rhythm that beat out hot nights and lusty unions. She moaned and pushed to bring him inside where she was warm and moist and ready for him.

The woman amazed him. Over the years they’d shared stories over the back fence, Brian had determined that a passionate woman lurked under her demure exterior but 25

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she surpassed his fantasies. It was true that pain and pleasure were closely related and he’d just finished giving her ass a light caning, the stripes of which had made his cock painfully hard as she knelt with her ass held high, for him to see. He didn’t want to do any permanent harm and so had been gentle when stretching her pussy to accept him. “Harder, Brian…deeper and harder.” She was supposed to be the submissive one yet the directions she gave him now gave him permission to proceed on an entirely different level. She wanted it rough? He slammed his cock in the rest of the way, watching her body arch with the sudden invasion, listening to her small cry as he forced her body to accept his length. Control slipped from both of them as nature took over, their bodies rocking together. He grabbed her wrists with both hands now and pulled her up, riding her like a master jockey rides a wild horse. Beneath him, she bucked and swayed, grinding her hips back into his as he thrust repeatedly into her. His balls tightened and for a long second, he paused, hanging in air, suspended in time…before crashing to earth, his cum spitting into her warmth and filling her. Brian groaned as he came and he felt Carol let go, releasing her own orgasm and milking his cock. The relief flooded all the way to his toes and he slowed, loath to leave the warmth of her wet pussy. He lowered her to the mattress and knelt behind her, closing his eyes as he caught his breath.

Carol lay in a haze of sexual satisfaction. Never before had she been so thoroughly used. He’d “forced” her to come, using a cane and his fingers, and he’d filled her pussy with his cock. When he at last pulled out and lay beside her, she wanted to repay him in some small way for his incredible gift to her. He would have drawn her into his arms but she wiggled away. With a playful yet take-charge attitude, Carol pushed him over onto his back and trailed her fingers down along his belly to his hips. There she turned her attention to that which she’d felt but not yet clearly seen—his cock. 26

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Although it was already shrinking and their combined juices covered much of it, he was still impressive. No wonder she had felt filled by him. Sliding down, she licked his cock clean. The skin was incredibly soft on her tongue, smooth and warm with remembered life. No flap covered the tip, giving Carol free access to explore even the little slit in the end. His scent mixed with hers, creating a musky sachet that turned on every one of her sex hormones. As her tongue flicked and caressed, she was thrilled to feel the blood pulsing through the veins again as his cock grew large once more.

Brian had always been able to come twice in the space of an hour. Once he’d even come three times, though the third had been pitiful by comparison. As Carol’s tongue snaked around, exploring his cock, Brian relaxed and let nature have its way with him. Only by relinquishing control could he maintain it. Obviously Carol hadn’t had a lot of experience with sucking a man. However what she lacked in technique, she made up for in spirit. He hadn’t commanded her to clean him—she’d done so of her own volition. Now as he grew, he didn’t tell her to suck him and yet her mouth pulled his cock in, her tongue sliding faster over the base. If he wanted, he knew he could come in her mouth and she’d accept his cum without hesitation. “On your knees again, slave.” Brian loved the color that came up in her cheeks and the smile that went with it. With all else going on in her life, she enjoyed this little hiatus, this foray into a forbidden sexual lifestyle. Brian sincerely hoped she’d return for more when her life settled. He wanted that pussy again. She’d fit him so comfortably, his cock ached to plunge in a second time. But he wanted her bound this time, bound and helpless to stop his advances.

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The bed had originally been a temporary solution to one woman’s preferences but the modifications Brian had made to it opened a whole set of new possibilities. Grinning, he imagined Carol at some future date, with her arms fastened to the frame over her head and her ass lifted high in the air for his use. That gave him an idea. Leaving her kneeling on all fours, he stepped over to the bench and pegboard where he kept his “tools” and chose a set of wrist cuffs and two one-inch locks. “Kneel up.” Brian thoroughly enjoyed watching her breasts bounce as she came up to kneel on her heels. The deep red marks made by the leather thongs still marred the whiteness of her skin. He paused to run a practiced hand over her left breast, hefting its weight and giving the nipple a little pinch before continuing. With a waggle of his eyebrows he held out the cuffs to her, grinning as she promptly put out her wrists. “Always wondered what it would feel like to wear cuffs,” she confessed. This was a simple set, just a length of leather about two inches wide with a D-ring in the middle, a set of slits on one end and a metal hoop on the other. Put it around a wrist, slide slot A over tab B, fasten with a lock and voila! Cuffed. “And how does it feel now that you have them on?” She wiggled her wrists in the air in front of her. “They jangle!” She looked at him in surprise. “Metal on metal usually does.” Carol shook her head. “Sorry, sound was not a sense I expected to come into play here.” Brian smiled ruefully. “Looks like I need to do a better description in my books.” He watched her turn her arms this way and that, exploring all the sensations of the cuffs. “Well?” he asked when she finally put her hands down in front of her. “What’s the verdict?” “I like them.” Bringing them up, she considered the strips of black as she talked. “They don’t constrict and yet they do. I mean, I can do anything with them on that I can 28

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do with them off but I know they’re there. Probably, after getting used to them, I wouldn’t notice them at all. Kind of like you know when you’re wearing a new watch and it’s always in your mind but after a day or two, you forget all about it until you look at the time.” “These are light cuffs, not really designed for too much heavy work. They’re more an about-the-house type cuff,” Brian admitted. “But they’re a good set of beginner cuffs. Don’t want to scare you away.” A strange light came into Carol’s eyes. “Don’t think you could,” she muttered. Brian looked at her askance and wondered if he’d let a genie out of the bottle when he’d brought Carol downstairs. In many ways, he certainly hoped so. “On your knees again.” The Dom was back in his voice and Carol responded immediately. Taking one of the pieces of leather he’d used around her breasts, he doubled the length and slipped it through the two D-rings, pulling her wrists first together then forward a bit so he could tie it off to the bottom of the headboard. Not classy but it would serve. The spreader bar that leaned against the wall in the corner already had cuffs attached to it. It clanged as he dropped it onto the mattress and Brian made a mental note to include that in his next novel as well. He spread her feet wide, fastening them to the bar. This would give her only up and down movement and prevent her legs from closing at all now.

Carol felt the cool air of the basement on her open pussy. She tested her bindings, finding the strengths and weakness in how he’d bound her body. Her hands were far out in front of her, pulling her a little off balance but she could inch her knees forward one at a time to regain that. The sound of Brian’s laughter stopped her. “Oh, no, you don’t. My slave woman isn’t going anywhere.” She felt him pull the spreader bar back again, her knees scraping along the mattress. Ducking her head down to peek under her arms, she saw him tie a 29

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rope to a hook of some sort in the middle of the bar and then he pulled her back again as he stretched the rope taut to tie it off on the footboard. Now she was even more off-balance, her ass higher, the skin that stretched across it aching from the three cane strokes. God, how she had enjoyed those! Thrilled with the journey of discovery he led her on, she didn’t really care what that enjoyment might say about her. She could sort all that out later. Right now he was going to use her again and her pussy creamed in readiness. The mattress gave a little when he knelt behind her. Not sure what to expect, she knew she was tenser than she should be and when a warm liquid dribbled down along the valley of her ass, she jumped. “Skittish, aren’t we?” “Sorry.” Carol shook her head and took a deep breath to relax. Whatever Brian had planned for her, she welcomed. And then a finger probed her ass. She gasped. Although she’d fantasized about being taken there, she’d never confessed her desire to Michael. He had already had such little respect for her that that would have sealed her fate. Now, however, Brian’s finger slowly penetrated her ass, moving in and out as he took ownership of even that part of her. She knew she moaned. If she’d had words, she would have pleaded with him to go faster. She was so close to coming again—a fact that amazed her even as she dimly understood it was the Master’s hands that gave her the opportunities. The most orgasms she’d ever managed before had been three in one day and those had been spread out over the course of several hours as she had read one of Brian’s more erotic novels. Today, with the real thing, she’d lost count of the number of times she’d come while bound. Four? Five? How many more had she had here on the mattress around his cock? And her body craved more. Her pussy ached as his finger plunged in and out of her ass and she wanted to come. Faster, she wanted to yell at him. Go faster! 30

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But all she could do was moan out her desires. She wasn’t in control—he was. She allowed him to take her where he wanted, innately knowing it would be worth the wait. “You like having your ass fucked, slave?” She couldn’t answer. His use of the vulgar word threatened to send her over the edge. Brian fisted her hair, forcing her head back. “Answer me when I ask you a question, slave. You like having your ass fucked?” It took effort to form the words. His finger remained pushed deep into her ass. “Yes, I think I do.” She so desperately wanted to come. “You think? You don’t know if you want me to fuck your ass?” Every time he said the word, she trembled. “I don’t know if I like it. I’ve never had anyone take me there,” she managed. His voice was low and his mouth close to her ear. “Say the words, slave. Say the words you’ve thought but never said.” Carol’s cheeks burned. Brian pulled out his finger only to plunge it again into her ass and she knew she’d say anything to further her orgasm. “I want you to fuck my ass.” How had he known she’d never said that word out loud before? “Say it again, louder.” He slipped a second finger into her hole, stretching her, and Carol’s breathing, already ragged, became fast and shallow as she poised on the edge of the cliff. Her eyes closed and her entire world focused on his words and his fingers. “Please, Brian. Please fuck me in the ass.” “Louder.” He pumped three fingers in and out of her asshole, widening her, preparing her for his entrance. “Fuck me. Fuck my ass!” Her voice held a sob as she shouted the words he demanded of her. He squeezed a generous portion of oil onto her ass, then positioning his cock, he pressed against her, insistent, unrelenting. “Relax and let me in.”

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With a shudder and an exhale, she did and he slid the tip of his cock inside. The three stripes glowed against her skin and he couldn’t resist. The slap he gave her was light and quick and stinging. Her body relaxed further and he pushed again, working the oil in deep with his cock as he rocked in and out, in and out. Carol thought she was going to split in two. She cried out each time he pushed against her, her body fighting and welcoming the intrusion. If her hands had been free, she’d be rubbing her clit hard right now, coming over and over as he fucked her ass. “Fuck me,” she muttered, trying to match his thrusts with the tiny amount of movement she had. His cock was so large. Would he ever fit the entirety inside? Her moan ended as a sob as he pushed harder. When she felt his balls slap against her ass cheeks, she knew her ass was virginal no more. “Come for me, slave. Give me your orgasm.” Carol pumped herself against his cock, feeling her own muscles bunch, poised for that orgasm many called a mini-death. She longed for that death, sobbed out her breaths as Brian’s cock slid in and out of her ass. Suddenly everything stopped and she hung poised in time. One second, two…an eternity in a heartbeat. And when she couldn’t stand the pressures any longer, she felt as if her body exploded. Electricity flew to tingle in her fingers, her toes. It came out of the top of her head and would have flown out her eyes if she didn’t have them so tightly shut. But most of all, her energy flooded out her ass and pussy in waves of power stronger than she’d ever known.

Brian groaned as his cum filled her ass. The woman was incredible, her body responsive to his every touch. He most sincerely hoped Carol would become a frequent visitor to his basement and even as he came down from his second orgasm, his mind turned over several possibilities for another session. Her head drooped between her stretched arms, her body twitching with stray pulses of her orgasm. He pulled out, listening to her cry of protest when he did. Did she 32

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protest because she didn’t want him to leave? Or protest because her ass was tender and his leaving caused a small pain? Leaving her tied for a moment, he walked to the stationary tub and grabbed a towel out of the waiting laundry. He cleaned his hands and his cock, then wet down a washcloth with warm water before coming back to her. “Stay still,” he told her when she startled at the touch of the cloth on her ass. She’d been rocking in her bindings when he returned, a sign that her body still rode the stray wave of energy. The cuffs on her ankles were easy to remove and he pushed the bar off the mattress, listening to it clang against the cement floor. With a deft pull on the leather, he gave her back her wrists, though he left the cuffs on for the time being. Her body free, he lay down beside her and pulled her into his embrace, wishing he’d thought to bring a blanket down as well. Making a mental note that he liked snuggling afterward with Carol, Brian resolved to be better prepared the next time. If she would give him a next time.

Carol burrowed into Brian’s warmth, her body fully sated this time. For several long minutes, she didn’t think of the past or of the future. The present was all that concerned her and she felt truly relaxed for the first time in months. After a while, she felt she could put at least some of that into coherent sentences. “Thank you, Brian. That was an incredible experience.” “I didn’t hurt you too much, I hope?” She turned her head to kiss his shoulder. “Nope. You hurt me just the right amount.” A giggle wormed its way up and she let it out. How long had it been since she had giggled? “I like to hear you laugh, Carol. It’s a sound I haven’t heard in a while.” Her sigh wasn’t one of regret but of contentment. “You make me laugh, Brian. Thank you for that as well.”

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She sensed he wanted to ask her something but was trying to find the right way to frame the question. Carol remained quiet. He’d come to it and she would give him the time he needed. “Carol…” he started, then stopped. “Go ahead, Brian. We’re too good of friends for you to hold back now. Ask.” “I want to do this with you again. And again and again.” She sensed the hesitation. “There’s a ‘but’ coming…” Moving so she could prop her head on one hand and look at him, she heard the jingle of the lock on the cuff at her wrist. She jingled it again just to hear it as she settled and looked him in the eye. “What is it?” “You’re just divorced and coming out of a relationship. In many ways, this is rebound sex. I’m still not sure that, ethically, I should have even asked you in the back door.” “Ethics went out the window a long time ago, Brian. We’re both attracted to each other and have been for a very long time. I think we actually showed remarkable restraint in waiting until today to consummate what we’ve both wanted for months.” “Years, actually.” Brian grinned. “I wanted to jump your bones within a month of you moving in.” Carol’s laugh this time was full-throated and unrestrained. Brian thought he’d never heard a more beautiful sound. “Then I’d say we’ve been very ethical.” Her fingers traced his face and Brian took them and kissed the tips. “So then I can safely say I’ll be seeing you in my basement again?” Carol remembered Susan’s parting words about learning from the past and not making the same mistakes again. The experiences Brian offered her were nothing like her old life but she knew she had to take time to figure out exactly what she needed and

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what she didn’t. She smiled and nodded. “I promise. Not for ever and ever but I promise for now.” Brian pulled her down, murmuring against her lips, “A promise for now.”

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About the Author For many years, Diana Hunter confined herself to mainstream writings. Her interest in the world of dominance and submission, dormant for years, bloomed when she met a man who was willing to let her explore the submissive side of her personality. In her academic approach to learning about the lifestyle, she discovered hundreds of short stories that existed on the topic, but none of them seemed to express her view of a d/s relationship. Challenged by a friend to write a better one, she wrote her first BDSM novel, Secret Submission, published by Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

Diana welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Diana Hunter A Devil in Winter Cabin Fever Diamond Studs anthology Hooked Irish Enchantment anthology Kara’s Captain Learning Curve New York Moment Secret Submission Submission Revealed Table for Four

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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