I’d seen a needlepoint yesterday, in my property manager Brett’s house in Bozeman. With a baby on the way, his wife had clearly started nesting, filling their home with cozy touches. She even had a few frames lying on the table, set up and ready to go to display baby photos after the big arrival.
Kara was just like her. That was the kind of life she belonged in. Six years later, she hadn’t changed at all. Sweet, kind, thoughtful, she’d been a virgin for God’s sake. She should be with someone like her, eager to build exactly the kind of happy home she wanted.
I pictured the cabin I owned in Bozeman. It was nothing like Brett and his wife’s. It was an investment, a place I typically lent out to various business partners. I found that staying at my houses gave people a sense that they knew me. As if my properties reflected who I really was. But my cabin had the same ‘homey yet rugged’ effect of all of the property’s main buildings, with a Native American print blanket here, a couple of antique snow shoes there. I had an army of interior designers and decorators on my payroll and they did their jobs well.
But my houses didn’t feel like homes to me. A frown tugged at my mouth. I didn’t like the feeling that my impeccably-designed properties were somehow lacking. Leave it to Kara to make me aware of what was missing. She woke me up to the ache, the emptiness, the part of me left unfulfilled.
I swore and sipped my drink. Thoughts like that were bullshit. There was nothing in life money couldn’t buy. Look, it had bought me Kara Brooks.
But then why did I feel like the closer I got to her, the less I had her? The tighter I grasped my fingers, the more it felt like she slipped through. And the more I craved clutching her to me.
Running my hand through my hair, I exhaled in frustration. It was only one o’clock in the morning and sleep sure didn’t seem like an option. It was going to be a long night. How could I fall asleep with Kara lying next door in my bed? Maybe she’d have a leg kicked out of the covers, exposing a hint of her impossibly soft, smooth skin. I could head in there, begin at her toes and slowly travel up, caressing, massaging, making her body respond to me before she fully awoke, her eyes fluttering, her lips parted. She’d look at me glazed with lust, awakening aroused and needy, just how I wanted her.
Striding over to my bedroom, I threw open the door. She lay there on my bed like some sort of storybook princess, sleeping so pink and perfect. She gave a slight sigh with her next exhale, the gentle play of a smile flickering across her full, generous mouth. Her eyelids stayed closed in slumber, her long, dark lashes forming perfect arches against her pale skin.
I looked down on her, hard as a goddamned pistol, the demon hovering over the angel. I could feel her lush curves draped all over my body, her pussy squeezed tight around my shaft. I brought a hand down to my steel length and cursed.
This woman was like an infection coursing through me, cooking my brain and body in a raging fever. My prick throbbed. Solid and at the ready, I knew I could take care of myself, jerk myself off and come hard in sixty seconds. Hell, this horny I probably could do it a few times over. My balls ached and I needed the release.
But I knew it wouldn’t help, not really. It would feel all right for a second, a blinding flash when my mind went blank. But then everything would return to me, the hunger, the unquenched thirst, maybe even stronger than before. My cock needed one thing and one thing only and she was asleep in my bed. My hand would only end up making me more frustrated in the end.
Still she slept, unaware of the inferno racing through my blood. Too comfortable in my bed. Trusting the monster.
I swore under my breath. I walked out of the room again, closed the door and paced. What the hell had I gotten myself into? Why was I playing with this kind of fire?
I hadn’t felt this messed up, not in a long time. Not since six years ago. Nothing had changed. Kara might be 24 now, but she was still the same girl. Hot as shit but with hearts and rainbows dancing around her head. Unicorns and fairies and all that Hollywood movie bullshit.
I’d fallen for her hard back then, with all the idiocy of youth. I could still remember how Kara used to make me feel, like I was a king, like the world was my oyster. I’d been 21 and street smart and tough-talking. But inside, that was a different story. She’d fulfilled my fantasies in more ways than one. And I’d let myself start blending the two, allowed myself to enter into the dream of what it would be like with Kara, really be like if she were my woman. I’d felt such blinding happiness that night she’d come down in my cabin, when I’d thought I was so close to calling her my own.
Nothing turned you into a sucker quicker than that. I’d let my guard down and Harlan had sucker punched me good. It had all crumbled like dust, blown away quick and fast and left no trace.
I should have learned my lesson, but Kara did something to me, messed up my brain. Made me start thinking about things I shouldn’t. Yearning for the types of things I never thought about in day-to-day. Home, family. What would it be like to have it all? That was a myth, especially for a man like me. When you tried to reach for that apple, that’s when all hell broke loose. Better to be satisfied with what you had than torturing yourself over what you never would.
Now the world actually was my oyster. Richer than I’d ever dreamed and now Kara had walked back into my life and agreed to give herself to me for a week. I had everything I’d ever yearned for. I should be licking my chops, satisfied as a rich man at a lavish Christmas dinner. But here I was all worked up, unable to sleep, forced out of my apartment, torqued up and pacing, all over some girl? Any second now, I could feel it, I would start dreaming of her and me. I’d start smiling and humming.
I’d hated Harlan at the time. But he was right. He’d been back then, and he was right now. I wasn’t the man for her.
Even now that I had the money, I wasn’t the full package. I was a broken man. I’d never be the picket fence dad fussing over the BBQ with the neighbors and their kids over for Sunday after church. I didn’t play that way. And the way I actually played, real down dirty and nasty? Kara might pretend, but she didn’t play that way either. We were still living in different worlds, her and me. Kara belonged married and tucked away in a snug little cabin, wrapped in sweetness and love, expecting a new baby to make three. And here I was spanking the fuck out of her and planning to do more, much more.
Six years ago I’d done the right thing. I’d cut things off, left her without hope and without a trace. It had been hard. It had torn me up, if I had to be honest about it. But what had got me through was I knew it was the best thing for her.
There was no getting around it, ending it would be the best thing for her this time around, too. I didn’t want to give her up. I wanted to keep her with me, hold her tight. But even now I could tell one week wouldn’t be enough. I was a possessive madman and I’d drag this thing out, beat it into the ground until she was dying to get away from me. I’d ruin her, dragging her into my dark world of submission and domination for pleasure.
And then I knew what would happen. Inevitably, our differences would surface. I’d get frustrated. She’d get hurt. We were cut from different cloths and she might want to make a quilt out of it all, but it wouldn’t work. It would end, slowly, painfully, with massive damage and wreckage. This time around the crash-and-burn would be of epic proportions.
But there was no way it would work between us, not the way she’d want. I wasn’t the Christmas sweater, baseball in the backyard with our kids type of guy. I’d never known my father. My junkie of a mother had passed away two years ago. An overdose, no one there to help her, she’d died alone. I had no brothers or sisters, at least that I knew of. I literally had no family and no experience of it, either. You didn’t grow up like I did and then just flip a switch. You learned things over time, commitment, responsibility, intimacy, the sacrifices parents made to create a stable, loving home. Or you learned the opposite. Once you’d seen all the darkness life could bring, I didn’t see any way over into the light. I simply wasn’t capable of
it. I’d gone through the last 27 years a lone wolf. I’d go through however many more stretched out in front of me the exact same way.
Playing games with Kara was too fucking dangerous. I didn’t play with fire. I did controlled burns, when I could see the exact path it would take and knew precisely how and when I could put it out. You had to know when to let the beast out of the cage. I wouldn’t do it anymore, not with Kara. My hard, aching cock? I’d find someone wet, willing and ready to take care of all of my needs. Someone who’d walk away the next morning and I wouldn’t give her a second thought.
I would end this now, terminating our agreement. I would write Kara a check and leave it out on the kitchen island. Later in the morning, by the time she woke up I’d already be out at the office. She’d take her money and run.
Because Kara was only sticking around for my money, anyway. If I didn’t have that, she wouldn’t be here. I’d be a forgotten memory, some ranch hand who got her off one summer.
I was used to women wanting me for my money. It made things simple. They liked the money first and foremost, and they liked my power inside and outside the bedroom. It was enough to keep a steady stream of them coming, literally and figuratively. Somehow with Kara, though, the thought twisted in my guts. It made me feel scooped out and hollow.
Since when did I care about shit like that? My innermost thoughts and feelings? Fuck that. Too much depth dragged you down. Shallow was just fine for me.
The solution was always there, you just had to have the balls to find it. And stick to it once you had. We weren’t going to New York tomorrow. I was ending this bargain.
Six years ago I’d done the right thing. Now, I’d do it again. It would be hard, but I could do it. Hell, people cut off their own limbs and lived to tell the tale. Life was pain.
I’d end this arrangement. I’d give her the money she needed, no strings attached. It had to end with Kara. Because that girl was kryptonite.
UNLEASHED, VOLUME 3
CHAPTER 1
Kara
I woke up early Monday morning in Declan’s king-size bed, buzzing and humming. Not with my usual type of activity, the urgency of getting to work, the daily need to Get Stuff Done. This was different. This buzz came from within, my mind and my body.
Part of it was because I was about to go to New York City. Declan and I were going to fly there today. I’d been on a plane exactly twice in my life. The biggest city I’d ever spent time in was Boise, and now I was off to The Big Apple!
But the other part of it, the real reason for my buzz if I were completely honest, was what we’d be doing while we were there. Sure, we’d do some sightseeing and that would be super fun. He’d mentioned a black tie gala at the Met. He might as well be taking me on a space shuttle trip to Mars for all I knew about it. I had no idea what to expect, but I bet it would be amazing.
But really, we would be in New York to fulfill our bargain. We’d spend the week drowning in debauched sex. I’d serve him, doing whatever he wanted, submitting to his discipline, bound to Declan. I had a feeling he’d been going easy on me last night, having me dress up as a French maid, making me work for him. It made my knees buckle, but I knew he had much more in store for me, much darker fantasies.
I should be freaking out. I should be packing up my things and planning my escape. I shouldn’t be slick between my thighs, thinking about how much I loved his punishments. Stretching between the sheets, I looked down and remembered I was wearing Declan’s t-shirt and boxers. They smelled like him. I inhaled, deep, and like an animated film I could almost see myself surrounded and intoxicated by the aroma, as if a sorcerer were working a magic spell on me. I thrummed and tingled and that ache began again deep inside of me.
Last night he’d had me begging for him, out of my mind, squirming and panting as I wore next to nothing pressed up against his massive mahogany desk. The cool, hard wood had bitten into the exposed flesh of my soft ass as I’d offered myself to him. I’d kept my palms on either side of me on the desk as I let him stroke and caress my skin. His fingers had slid in and out of my pussy so slick, so easy. I’d never been so ready.
He’d made me say dirty things for him, tell him how I was wet for him and beg him to let me come. No man had ever done anything like that to me before. I never could have imagined doing it, never mind loving it, craving it. I’d felt so out of control, hurtling downward on a roller coaster, the rush and thrill of it overwhelming every thought until all I could do was put my hands up and scream.
And then he’d sent me into the bath, telling me I could play with myself. But in his gravelly, commanding voice, he’d said, “You may not come. You only come for me.” Oh my. I fanned myself. I was clearly out of my league.
Up into the bathroom, I washed my face and brushed my teeth with the toiletries he’d sent to me Friday night. I couldn’t believe that was only three days ago. So much had transpired since then.
The clock on the wall said it was six thirty. Back in real life, the day would already be in full swing. Our foreman, Bill, and the other ranch hands would be up and about, starting in on the day’s chores. I’d already be at work, serving up the smiles along with breakfast at the diner.
I got back into bed. This was a week of debauchery, after all. And what would a wanton, fallen woman do? She’d climb right back into the king-size bed and luxuriate in the softness of the sheets, the fluffiness of the down comforter, that’s what.
Where was Declan? I didn’t think he’d climbed into bed with me last night. Was he already at work? There was so much that I didn’t know about him. And now we were traveling to New York, into a whole next level of wealth, glitter, power and privilege. What kind of circles did he travel in when he was there?
What sort of women did he spend time with there? Because I wasn’t stupid, I knew Declan had to always be surrounded by women. Who did he play with when he was in New York? All I really had to go on were TV and movies, and based on those there seemed to be two kinds of women in that city: rich, cultivated and educated at the finest private schools, sophisticated and worldly beyond measure. Or models. I hoped very much we didn’t run in to any of them while we were visiting.
Agreeing to this arrangement with him was such a huge risk with such crazy high stakes. If it ended badly, the crash and burn would be so devastating. When it ended, I reminded myself, not if. When it was over at the end of the week. When that happened, I was going to need to walk away with my head held high and never look back. The only way that would happen was if I kept some emotional distance in the days ahead. I had to stay aloof, remember this was a transaction. I could play with my body but I needed to keep my heart firmly under wraps.
Back six years ago I’d been such a buoyant balloon, so high off of him and the feel of his kisses, his hands. Those nights together, just a handful, had felt like the world. Back as a teenager, in his arms I’d soared with unfettered rapture. I’d seen moonbeams and stardust shooting overhead, a huge, shimmering promise of joy. He’d tilted my whole world on its axis and I’d welcomed it with open arms.
Then he’d left without saying a word. No note, no goodbye, he’d just up and gone. I’d walked around his empty cabin, opening up the cabinets and drawers looking for something to prove it wasn’t really happening. Like in one of those drawers I’d find a secret love letter tucked away, giving me directions where to meet him and telling me how he couldn’t stand to be apart from me, not even for a minute.
The joke was on me. I’d fallen for him hard, but he hadn’t felt the same way. To him, it had been a few nights of fooling around, not enough to make him stay interested. I knew I didn’t have the experience he was used to. I’d probably bored him to tears. While I’d been exploding in fireworks, he’d probably been checking his watch, counting the minutes until he could dash.
The crash after that high had been as bad as any junkie’s, maybe worse. I’d been so lighthearted before he left. I’d been a naïve kid. That phase had lasted a long time, I had to admit. My f
ather had done a good job of sheltering me, maybe too good a job. The thing about a protective shelter was the shock once you emerged out of it. You didn’t always have the skills and background to know how to deal with the storm. I’d had to learn it all the hard way.
I’d been a complete idiot. I’d sat in Declan’s empty cabin, crying. I’d cried a lot more after that, too, moping and dragging myself around like I’d been hit by a bus. My father hadn’t seemed to notice. That had felt good, for the most part. I felt pathetic enough without my father getting annoyed and frustrated with me on top of it. I felt enough of that about myself already. But sometimes I did wish I had a mother around, someone who might notice that my skin had faded into a gray pallor and I’d lost about 15 pounds because everything tasted like sawdust. Maybe I could have cried with a mother, instead of alone in my room or while folding laundry or watching some sappy movie showing me exactly what I didn’t have.
Six years ago I’d fallen completely off the deep end and it had taken me a long while to swim back to shore. I’d been so crazed with lust and what my teenage brain had interpreted as love that I’d blinded myself to reality. That hadn’t worked so well for me. I hadn’t worked the poison out of my system for years. I think I still had some left in me now.
You’d think all those memories would get my guard up. The intensity of the pain. The way he could flip the switch in him, making me feel the heat of the sun, then suddenly turning off to leave me alone on the dark side of the moon. You’d think I’d be panicking over the huge gamble I was taking, once again placing myself within his power so completely. I wasn’t any more experienced. I was just as vulnerable, if not more so. I had much more to lose now.
And I did have alarm bells ringing in my head. Make that emergency evacuation sirens blaring. But the problem was, the rest of the noise strumming through me, electric and wild, was even louder. It was like trying to think rationally while inside a raging inferno. You couldn’t do it.