Bound by Her (9 page)

Emily remained quiet for a few moments and I breathed a sigh of relief when her next question didn’t come. She had let the subject drop more easily than I had feared. That was one of Emily’s many good points. She recognised when a subject made me uneasy and so she didn’t push it. Too much.

“Ryan will be here soon, you’ll be glad to know.”

She leaned back and looked up at me, her brows pushing together. “Ryan? Why?”

“To bring me some clothes so I no longer have to distract you.” I winked and her lips quirked up into a sexy grin. “I’ve warned you about that look, Miss Braxton.” I tightened my arms around her waist and moved forwards, pressing my heated, pounding chest against her until she was backed against the sink. Then I pulled at her earlobe with my teeth. “The table looks inviting,” I breathed.

“Julian, you’re an animal.” She giggled. “Stop.” She pushed against my shoulders with her palms as I nipped the soft skin of her neck, my arousal pulsing as it pressed against her belly.

“Why would I want to do that?” I said between kisses and gentle nips. I gripped onto the edge of the sink behind her, trapping her in the circle of my arms.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she whispered.

I let my arms drop to my sides and stepped back, trying hard not to let my disappointment show on my face. “Go, I’ll wait right here.” I slapped at her perfectly rounded backside with a firm hand and she startled and giggled as her cheeks deepened their shade of pink. She disappeared through the kitchen doorway and I felt instantly restless.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a text to Ryan, instructing him to bring me a change of clothes, and noticed the four missed calls from Natalie.
Fuck off!

“Do you want coffee?” Emily shuffled back into the kitchen and eyed me suspiciously. Oh yes, I had been in the process of making coffee.

“No. I want you.” I grabbed her hips as she attempted to manoeuvre past me and hurried towards the table, pushing her backwards towards it as my lips found her neck again. “On this table.” I lifted her, sitting her on the edge of the polished oak and pushed her thighs apart with my knee before nestling my broad hips between them.

“Julian, I can’t.” She pushed gently at my shoulders but I knew she wanted me as her head rolled back to grant me more space on her neck. I kissed more urgently. “I can’t,” she repeated, her voice a breathy whisper.

“What do you mean, you can’t? Why?” A shudder ran through her as I whispered close to her ear.

“Um...women’s things, Julian. I can’t.”

Oh?
Fuck!

I groaned loudly into her neck before pulling away to look at her flushing face. “How long are you out of action for?” I smirked. I suppose that wasn’t really funny, but I couldn’t hide my amusement at the quirkiness of my question.

She shrugged her shoulders, exaggerating the sheer sexiness of the single naked one. “A week, maybe.”

“A week?” I gasped. My horror must have been written all over my face as a short burst of laughter rippled through Emily’s chest. “That’s not funny! How do you expect me to keep my hands off you for a week?” I almost shrieked - almost. “A week?” Okay, that time it was definitely a shriek.

“You’ll have to settle for a cuddle,” she managed to choke out through her heavy chuckles.

Seriously? A week? I mean, I knew women had to have some time off during in the course of a month, and it wouldn’t usually have bothered me. But a week without feeling myself surrounded by her. A whole week without being able to connect so intimately with her. I wasn’t sure I’d have the will power to stay away.

I was quite literally saved by the bell as Ryan arrived just in time. If I didn’t get safely under the protection of my clothes very soon, I wouldn’t last long against my battle of wills - and I didn’t suppose Emily would respect me much if she knew what I was thinking at that moment - let alone if I actually did it.

“How’s things going at the club?” I addressed Ryan from half way down the stairs as I still struggled with the fly of my jeans. Seriously, who ever thought it’d be a good idea to make the damn buttons so small? Didn’t the vast majority of men have large fingers?

“Do you want a hand with that?” Emily grinned as she approached the bottom of the stairs with a pile of neatly folded laundry in her arms and noticed my struggle.

Ah, Emily’s fingers fumbling around at my fly - there was a welcoming image. Of course, I should say no, but I couldn’t. “Please.” I flashed a wide smile.

As she tugged at the stiff fabric, effectively yanking me down another step and closer to her, I felt myself harden and sucked in a deep steadying breath as I tried to focus on what she was actually doing - not what I’d like her to be doing.

“Behave.” She chuckled quietly as her fingers fumbled with the overly tight button and no doubt felt the evidence of my arousal. As she pushed the button hard against the readymade hole, the backs of her fingers pressed firmly against me.

“Oh God. You are actually going to kill me.” I wanted her so badly it hurt. How did she do this to me?

“There, all done.” She winked before bending over to pick up the laundry heap once more.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her firmly against her temple before releasing her to carry on with her duties. As I swung around the bottom of the banister joyfully, I was shocked to see Ryan standing in the hallway; I would’ve thought he’d be in the kitchen with a coffee, or something.

“Having a bit of trouble there, Scott?” He sniggered as his eyes pointed to my fly.

“Piss off! What’s going on at the club?”

“We’ve got a team working on it now. They’re doing the club first so you can reopen, then they’ll sort out The Attic during the daytime hours.”

My body instantly tensed as I heard the name, The Attic. It didn’t feel right anymore, something felt wrong. The Attic had always been one of my most treasured accomplishments. I had been so proud of the fact that I had even thought up the idea of such an exclusive area, let alone when I had actually created it. The Lounge had always thrived, since its grand opening nearly five years ago, but, when The Attic was unveiled, our clientele had shot from average business men looking to find a money-grabbing bitch for the night while their wives slept at home, to A-class celebrities who were desperate for guaranteed privacy while they enjoyed a night out. It brought a lot of business – and a lot of money – into the club, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Scrap The Attic. I don’t want it there, get rid of it.”

I wouldn’t have Emily being constantly reminded of what happened every time she stepped foot in that building. I wouldn’t have her being constantly reminded of
him
. It meant nothing to me now; I had no desire to have it refurbished. It felt as dead to me as Jay did.

“What? You need it there, Julian.”

“No, I don’t. I said get rid of it.”

I heard the doorbell ring and tried to make out who Emily’s visitor was through the muffled voices. I couldn’t. The kitchen door flew open and smacked hard into the wall beside it. I instinctively jumped to my feet.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she shrieked as she marched straight in and slammed her palms heavily against the table in front of me.

I sat back down and reached for my coffee cup. “Hello, Natalie.”

“Don’t
hello Natalie
me!”

“How else would you suggest I greet you?”

Emily leaned in the doorway and shot me a warning glare. She held a single one of her eyebrows up and narrowed her eyes slightly. She looked sexy as hell.

“Would it be so difficult for you to pick up your fucking phone?” Natalie shouted, snapping my focus back to her.

“Stop swearing at me, Natalie.” She knew I hated her directing such language at me. That was precisely why she did it. It wasn’t natural to hear your baby sister cursing. It bothered me a lot. Although I had never bothered to ask myself why it did.

“Swearing? You’re lucky I’m not gauging your fucking eyes out, you bastard!”

“Stop fucking swearing!” I slammed my fists hard against the table, its frail wooden legs trembling under my force, and jumped up to my feet sending my chair hurtling across the floor.

“Calm down.” Ryan also jumped to his feet and placed a hand across my chest as if to protect Natalie. Did he seriously think I was going to hurt her? A woman? Not to mention my own fucking sister.

“Fuck off, Ryan. Stay out of this.”

His arm relaxed when Natalie gave him a subtle nod, but he remained close to my side, watching me like I was some sort of crazed lunatic. I wasn’t the one who had just stormed into someone else’s house and started screaming at the guests inside.

“All this because I didn’t answer my phone? What’s going on?” Something must have happened. Sure, Natalie had a temper, but this was definitely more than a few missed phone calls. I felt my body slowly tense, my mind alert and waiting for whatever she was possibly going to tell me.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on, Julian!” Her scorching eyes burned into me as her body trembled. With fear? With anger? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t imagine Natalie being afraid of me. She was just as feisty as I was, if not more. “Our mother tried to kill herself last night.” She paused briefly as a sob burst from her chest. I simply stared at her, my face no doubt looking as vacant as I felt. “Yeah, that’s right, Julian. You heard me. And all because her darling son won’t grant her as much as a fucking visit!”

“Well, it’s a real pity she didn’t fucking succeed.” I roared.

I marched straight past Emily, who had to duck out of the way as I hurled myself into the hallway. I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened as a sharp spasm shot through me. My fingers clutched at the neck of my jumper and tugged at it, granting my tensed throat more space to let the air through. I forced my mother’s face from my mind, but again, it kept creeping back, tormenting me, haunting me. I wouldn’t lose control again in front of Emily; I had to get out, now.

I slammed the front door firmly behind me and scrambled into my car. I had to get away from here, from Natalie. From everything. I had fought so hard to keep my mother out for so many years, and I had never faltered, but I could feel how close I was now to giving up that fight. And that simply wasn’t an option for me.

“Julian, wait!”

The passenger door flew open, before I’d even had the chance to start the engine, and Emily quickly ducked as she climbed into the seat beside me.

“Emily, go back inside,” I ordered in a strangled voice.

“Stop pushing me away, Julian! Let me help you,” she said, reaching over and placing her hand on my thigh.

“Help me? I’m not the one who needs help, Emily.”

“I think you do.”

What?
What help could I possibly need? I wasn’t the one trying to top myself. She always did this, my mother, she always found a way to get to me, and that way was usually through Natalie. I didn’t care about my mother. I didn’t care if she did kill herself, but Natalie did. And I cared about Natalie. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer like this. The hurt behind her saddened, desperate eyes reminded me of the exact pair of eyes that I had looked into many times before as I had comforted her time and time again. A poor frightened little girl who had nobody. Nobody to love her, nobody to give her a cuddle and tell her everything was okay, nobody to protect her innocent eyes. Nobody, except me. I was all she had. I couldn’t leave Natalie to face this on her own. I could make a sacrifice. I would give myself up for torture if it meant easing Natalie of even a small amount of her pain.

My palm slapped against the steering wheel as a loud growl rumbled through my chest and up out of my mouth and I had no control to stop it.

“Fuck!” I swung my door open and stepped back onto the street. Inhaling deeply, I upped the stairs and waltzed back into Emily’s apartment.

Natalie and Ryan were still in the kitchen; Natalie slumped over the table with her head in her hands, whilst Ryan stroked a soothing hand through her shimmering blonde hair.

“Natalie.” She twisted slightly and then stood as I marched into the kitchen. I threw my arms around her trembling body and squeezed her tightly against my chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I pressed my lips to her hair as her body shuddered with each quaking breath. I hated myself for doing this to her, but would I ever stop being blamed for my lunatic mothers actions? No one seemed to care about my feelings in all of this. Natalie knew what it had done to me when our mother had attacked me. She knew just how much that had crushed me. That one single event had nearly taken everything from me. The memory of my mother’s violent eyes as she lunged at me had haunted me night after night to begin with. I had stopped seeing my friends altogether. I could barely even eat. Many of nights I would sneak out of the house when my aunt, Eva, and her husband, Richard, were sleeping and make for the bar on the next street. Being much taller than the average sixteen-year-old and having the advantage of being able to grow facial hair, pretty much guaranteed me entry. I spent almost every night drowning my sorrows in that bar, and it wasn’t long before I had found what seemed like the perfect way to vent my anger. Having sex with strange women. Women I had never met before and would never intend to meet again. And I had no doubt made each and every one of them feel cheap and dirty when I dismissed them afterwards; after all, that was what women were to me. Each dirty conquest added to my power. Each one gave me the control that I had so desperately needed. But that liberation didn’t last long. As soon as I went home each night, my sorrow would return.

The realisation of how much my own mother hated me had absolutely destroyed me. And I had let her win. Something I still couldn’t forgive myself for, even now. She had blamed my success for her illness, and so I had quit. I officially dropped out of drama school and vowed never to act again. At the time, it felt right, but looking back, I had given in. Not only had my mother destroyed my soul, I had also let her destroy my dreams.

“All she wants to do is explain to you, Julian. She feels terrible for what she did to you, but that wasn’t her, she wasn’t well, Julian. She wasn’t herself.”