Bound to Them (17 page)

Guilt assailed him and he glanced quickly over at Nash.

But he needn’t have worried. Nash was staring at her with
the same look of love on his face. The other man raised his head and nodded at
Quinn.

Quinn instantly relaxed and nodded back.
Well, all right
then.
They were both on the same wavelength. There were times that being in
a relationship with a man had its real upsides. He knew how Nash thought—most
of the time—and they didn’t need to constantly talk about feelings.

But being with Crista only made things sweeter. He loved the
way she curled in his arms. So trusting, so soft. Her sweet scent. Her
gentleness. Yes, being with her was special in a way that was different from
being with Nash. Knowing how delicate she was in comparison to him brought out
every protective instinct.

He’d fuck up for sure. But he wouldn’t run out. On either of
them. And they’d work as a team. Nash could be the charmer, the talker. Quinn
could be the one to chase away her demons.

As long as she agreed to let them.

He tightened his arms, scared she’d just disappear.

“Quinn?” she asked.

He sighed.

“I met Caroline three years ago. I thought she was everything
I wanted. She was beautiful, smart, elegant. I fell head over heels. I thought
she was the one. I’d been in the BDSM scene for a few years but I didn’t do a
lot of public scenes. I wasn’t ready yet to tell my family and I didn’t want
any rumors getting back to them. So when I played in public I wore a mask. But
I intended to tell them.

“Caroline was divorced and wanted to do some renovation work
to her house. When the job was over, I asked her out. I didn’t really expect
her to say yes. But she did and we started dating. About the same time, a
friend of mine opened up a BDSM club. He wanted me to act as a dungeon master a
few nights a week. I couldn’t do that without talking to Caroline, of course.
Our sex life was very vanilla. And I knew I couldn’t continue on without
telling her what I really wanted.”

“How did she take it?” Crista asked.

“A bit shocked and scared. She told me if this is what I
wanted she was willing to try. However, she’d rather I didn’t do anything in
public. She said she wanted to keep me to herself and that she’d be jealous to
think of me touching other women. I told her it wasn’t like that, but her eyes
welled with tears, she just looked so upset at the idea that I caved.”

“She manipulated you.”

“Yeah.” Quinn sighed. “We went out for a few months. I tried
introducing things, tying her up, spanking her, but it wasn’t working. She
acted as though I was trying to harm her. Like everything I tried was sick.
Gradually I just gave up.”

“So you broke things off?” Crista asked.

He laughed, a sound filled with sadness. “I blamed myself.
Here I was trying to push my perversions onto a woman who clearly didn’t want
it.”

“She had her chance to get out. You were honest with her,”
Nash interjected.

“Not from the start,” Quinn replied. “I should have been up
front from the beginning and then maybe we wouldn’t have both ended up so
miserable.”

“What happened?” Crista asked.

“I tried to change, to suppress what I really wanted. I knew
she thought it was disgusting. I turned up at her apartment one night. We’d had
a fight that afternoon and canceled our plans. I let myself in with my key. And
found her fucking our accountant.”

He took a deep breath. “Of course I lost my temper. Punched
the guy and threw him out. She was screaming at me. Asking what I expected when
I was so perverted. That she couldn’t be with someone who was defective. That
she’d only wanted my money. Apparently the guy she was fucking didn’t earn
enough money for her. But the accountant knew my financial situation. I’ve made
a few really good investments over the years. She threatened to tell my family
about my
illness
unless I paid her off.”

“What did you do?” Crista asked.

“Told her if she mentioned a word of it that I’d spread the
word that she was a gold-digging bitch. That I had a lot of resources and
friends and I could make it so she never found a man to marry and keep her,
which is what she wanted. She believed me. But after that I was never
comfortable about telling my family or letting anyone see me at the club.”

“She made you feel ashamed of who you are,” Crista said.

Quinn glanced down at her. “I guess so. Silly, huh?”

“Yep.”

Quinn jolted, surprised by her agreement. He narrowed his
gaze. Crista stared back at him calmly.

“If your family loves you they won’t care. Didn’t you both
tell me that BDSM is all about safe and consensual play? You’re not doing
anything wrong, Quinn. And you’re definitely not defective or ill. Because if
you are, then Nash and I must be as well. Are you going to sit there and tell
me that what I feel is wrong?”

She challenged him with her gaze.

Quinn’s dick hardened. “You’re right.”

“I know,” she said smugly.

“She was a stupid, money-hungry bitch,” he said, something
tight inside him loosening.

“Yep, yep and yep,” she agreed.

Quinn bent down and kissed her. Leaning back, he realized he
felt lighter, happier than he had in a long time. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“No, thank you. I know that couldn’t have been easy to tell
us.”

“No.” He looked over at Nash. “But it needed to be said.”

Nash crooked a finger. “Come over here, both of you. I feel
a little neglected.”

Crista tried to climb off Quinn’s lap but he held her
tighter and then rose, carrying her over to sit beside Nash on the sofa. Nash
placed his arm over Quinn’s shoulder and drew him close, kissing him. Then he
leaned down and ran his thumb over Crista’s cheek.

“Sugar?”

“Hmm?” she asked, yawning. It was getting late.

“Do you realize the condom broke tonight?”

Crista stiffened and looked up at Nash in surprise. “I’m on
the Pill,” she said.

He brushed the hair back from her face. “I know, honey. But
we hadn’t discussed going without condoms. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” she told him, her lips slightly numb. When
was the last time she’d taken her Pill? With everything going on, it had kind
of been the last thing on her mind. She remembered taking it the morning Andrew
broke into her apartment. That might have been the last time. Surely the odds
of her getting pregnant were low.

She glanced up to tell them her slipup, but held back as she
noticed the way they were frowning. They obviously weren’t happy about the
possibility of her being pregnant and who could blame them? She was just a
one-weekend stand.

“Even if I there was a chance I could get pregnant, I
wouldn’t expect anything from either of you.”

Nash grasped her shoulder firmly, shaking her a little. “If
you were pregnant,” he said sternly, “you would tell me immediately. Do you
understand?”

There was no denying him when he used that voice.

“Yes Sir.”

His hold gentled and he looked somewhat sad. “Good girl. Now
how about we get some sleep? I don’t know about you two, but I’m exhausted.”

She nodded, still deep in thought.

“Crista? You okay?” Nash asked her.

Crista plastered a smile on her face, not wanting him to
suspect her inner turmoil.

“I’m good, just tired.”

“Come on, let’s tuck you into bed. You’ll be asleep as soon
as your head hits the pillow.”

Yeah, she wasn’t so sure.

Urgh. Crista tried to shake off her horrid Monday morning
blues. She should have felt refreshed after the weekend. But three nights
filled with sex as well as worry over Doug had left her absolutely exhausted.

Half-asleep, she moved through her morning routine before
stumbling into the small kitchen area in search of coffee.

Lots and lots of coffee.

It was her only hope.

Both Quinn and Nash turned to stare at her as she entered
the room. Immediately she felt self-conscious. She knew how she looked—pale
with dark circles under her eyes, dressed in an old t-shirt of Doug’s and baggy
jeans.

There’d been no sign of Andrew so she supposed she should
move back into her own room. After all, he was probably long gone.

Hopefully. Maybe. Yeah, probably not. Her luck wasn’t that
good.

“Morning, sugar,” Nash said cheerfully. “You want toast for
breakfast?”

She glowered at him. It should be a crime for someone to
look that good in the morning.

“Not an early morning person, are we?” he asked, smiling.
They’d been sleeping in each morning so she hadn’t had a chance to see how
sickening he was before 9:00 a.m.

“You look terrible,” Quinn added. She narrowed her gaze
warningly. He did not want to start with her this morning. “You should go back
to bed.”

“Bite me,” she snarled. Maybe not the most mature reply, but
it made her feel better.

She marched past him to the coffeepot, pouring herself a
large cup. Breathing deep, she let the heavenly scent stir her senses before
she took that first delicious sip.

“Christ, I think I came a little,” Quinn groaned. She
glanced up to find both men staring at her.

“What?” she asked.

“I never knew drinking coffee could be so sexy, sugar,” Nash
said huskily.

She took another deep gulp. “Don’t even think about it, I’m
already late.”

Swallowing the rest of her coffee, she placed the empty cup
down then stepped around them to grab her bag.

“I think you’ve forgotten a few things, darlin’,” Nash said
quietly.

“I have?” She felt more human now that caffeine flowed
through her system. “Oh, my car. We left it at the site all weekend.”

Shoot, she hoped nothing had happened to it.

“What did we tell you about your hair, Crista?” Nash
growled.

Crista raised her hand. She’d been on automatic this morning
and had naturally put her hair back in a bun.

“I can’t leave it down at work. It will annoy me all day,”
she explained.

Nash watched her thoughtfully as the toaster popped. He
turned away and buttered some toast. “Go get your hair brush,” he told her.

“I don’t have time, Nash.”

“There’s still an hour before the rest of the crew arrive,
you have plenty of time,” Quinn interjected.

“And while I’m doing your hair, you can eat your toast,”
Nash told her. “Now go, before it gets cold.”

His voice held no leniency and, sighing in frustration,
Crista stomped off to grab her hair brush.

Nash pulled out a chair. A plate piled high with toast sat
on the table.

“I can’t possibly eat all that,” she complained as she sat.
Nash loosened her hair. “You know that the weekend’s over, right? I can wear my
hair how I like.”

Quinn leaned forward, resting his folded arms on the table.
“We had this conversation, remember? None of us are ready for this to be over
yet.”

Her pussy immediately creamed. “I wasn’t sure if you meant
that.”

“Oh, we meant it. Neither of us are ready to let you go,
Crista.”

She swallowed heavily. She could have them longer?

“How about we talk about this tonight?” Nash asked, running
the comb through her hair. Crista closed her eyes as he continued.

“All right, all finished.”

Crista opened her eyes and reached back.

“A braid? Where did you learn to do that?”

“Well, I did grow up around horses, ma’am,” he replied in
his sexy drawl.

Crista stood and turned, gaping at him. “Did you just liken
me to a horse?”

Nash chuckled. “And I had a younger sister. My mom worked a
lot so I helped Amelia do her hair when she was young. Go and check on it.”

Crista raced into the bathroom. Her hair was now loosely
pulled back from her face.

“It looks really good,” she said as she walked back into the
kitchen area. Nash grabbed her, tugging her onto his lap.

“I’m a man of many talents.”

Quinn snorted, not looking up from the newspaper he was
reading.

“I still say you ought to stay in bed today. You look like
you need another twelve hours sleep,” he stated bluntly.

“Gee, thanks,” she muttered.

Crista attempted to rise from Nash’s lap but he wouldn’t let
her go. “Eat your toast, darlin’.”

“I’m not hungry. Can we go now? I want to get there before
the rest of the crew arrives.”

“You can eat it on the way if you like,” Nash said
cheerfully.

“Urgh.” Crista had the ridiculous urge to stomp her foot.
“The pair of you must be the most stubborn men in the universe.”

“Guilty as charged,” Quinn replied.

“What do you want on your toast? Peanut butter?” Nash asked,
reaching for the jar.

“No,” Crista said quickly. “Plain is fine.”

Both men frowned but gave in without a word. She sighed in
relief. “I need to go. I need to get there before everyone else.”

“You got that photo of O’Ryan we printed off?” Nash asked
Quinn, who nodded and patted his pocket. Quinn handed her the plain toast.

“Why are you carrying a photo of Andrew around?” she asked
as Nash placed her on her feet.

“We want to show it around, make sure everyone knows to keep
an eye out for him.”

Crista bit back her protest, recognizing the glint of
determination in their eyes.

She took a bite of toast when Quinn gave her a look, then
followed him out to his Jeep. Nash walked behind her, both men looming
protectively close. A rush of longing overwhelmed her. What would it be like to
be with them permanently? Of course, just because they wanted to extend the
weekend fun didn’t mean they wanted her forever. She should get that out of her
head right now.

They were amazing, gorgeous, smart, hot and right now they
just wanted to protect her from Andrew. Most men wouldn’t care. Most men
wouldn’t think twice about leaving her alone, even with Andrew still a possible
threat.

She could not mistake their kindness for anything more. That
way led only to heartache. Crista slammed into Quinn’s back. She stumbled back
clumsily. Nash grabbed her elbow, steadying her as Quinn swore, his shoulders
stiff.

“Take her back inside,” he ordered Nash.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” she asked.

Crista leaned to the side, peering around Quinn’s wide back.
She caught a glimpse of his Jeep before Nash tugged her back between them.

“Oh no,” she groaned miserably, trying to pull herself free
of Nash’s hold.

“Stay still, Crista,” Nash growled.

“No. Let me go. Oh Quinn, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he
would come after either of you. I’ll pay for the damage. I’ll buy you a new
one,” she promised desperately. Even if she spent the rest of her life paying
it off, she’d replace his Jeep. She would.

Quinn turned and she caught another look at his now wrecked
Jeep. Someone had slashed the tires. Black spray paint marred the previously
pristine purple paintwork.

Whore.

Bitch.

Slut.

Her eyes filled with tears. Then Quinn filled her vision,
his face dark with anger. She braced herself for his temper. She deserved his
anger—she’d brought this on him.

“Crista, look at me,” he said sternly. She raised her gaze
tentatively.

“Jesus, don’t be scared of me. Baby girl, don’t you know I
would never, ever hurt you?” Quinn took her into his arms as tears dripped from
her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She snorted a little at his words.

He laughed. “That’s completely different and you know it.”

Yes, she did now.

“He wrecked your Jeep.”

“Yep. He did. Not you. You didn’t do this, unless you’re
trying to tell me you snuck out in the middle of the night and keyed my
paintwork?”

She winced. She hadn’t noticed that. “No, but he’s my
problem. If you hadn’t gotten involved with me he’d never have done that. I
promise to pay you back.”

“You’ll do no such thing, and if you offer again I’ll spank
you right here in front of anyone who walks past, got it? This is not your
fault. Besides, it’s not mine, it’s a rental. And I have insurance.”

“Yes, but—”

A heavy smack landed on her butt, stopping her protest.

“Okay, okay.” She gave in with little grace.

“How’d he know you’re with us? Or which vehicle was
Quinn’s?” Nash interjected.

“He could have been watching us,” Quinn said, his arms
tightening around her as though he expected Andrew to suddenly whisk her away.

Nash snarled, the sound filled with such fearsome violence
she shuddered.

“Shh, sweetheart, you’re safe,” Quinn crooned.

“Take her back inside,” Nash said, resting his hands on her
shoulders. “I’ll check the Jeep over then call the deputy.”

“No way,” she protested. “I’ve got a job to do. I’ve got to
get to the site.”

Nash turned her, his gaze fierce as he stared down at her.

“Nash, this is my business. I can’t just shut up shop
because some asshole is trying to terrorize me, that’s just letting him win.
Besides, won’t I be safer there anyway, with the two of you and the rest of the
crew? Although perhaps the two of you should stay away from me.”

She felt sick at the idea of Andrew hurting them to get to
her. “Yes, that would be best. I’ll just get Anita to call a taxi. If you want
to leave town I’ll understand.”

Crista didn’t even get one step away before they were
pulling her back, both staring down at her incredulously.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just call us cowards,
sweetheart,” Quinn said in a soft, deadly voice. “But let me just make one
thing clear. Neither of us are going anywhere. Wherever you go, we go.”

“You are still our submissive,” Nash told her. “And you
promised to let us protect you.”

Crista took a deep breath. “And if I don’t want that?”

“You trying to tell me that you don’t want us, sweetheart?”
Quinn murmured from where he stood behind her. He cupped her mound. Her pussy
throbbed.

“Quinn, you can’t, someone will see.” She wiggled in his
hold, not sure if she wanted to get closer or get away.

Nash undid the button on her pants before pulling down the
zip. Quinn’s hand dipped inside.

“What did we say about wearing panties?”

“I thought this was over when I got dressed.” And she’d
figured that meant they were over too. How wrong she had been. Quinn pushed her
panties to one side and dipped his fingers into her wet folds.

“You can’t do this, not out here,” she moaned.

“You didn’t want to move inside,” Nash reminded her.

“Damn, she’s wet. She’s soaked through her panties.”

Crista groaned in embarrassment. Quinn swirled his finger
around her clit, making her shudder. All thoughts of someone seeing her fled as
her world narrowed down to his finger giving her pleasure.

Then he withdrew. Crista couldn’t hold back her whimper of
protest. Nash did up her pants and clasped her cheeks in his hands. She stared
up at him through a haze of need.

“Crista? Do you want to end all this? Or will you trust us
to protect you? To take care of you?”

She slammed back into reality.

“I-I don’t know.”

The more time she spent with them, the firmer the web of
need they spun around her grew. How would she ever survive letting them go?

“Please, Crista,” Quinn murmured behind her. “Let us protect
you. Be with us. We know you want us. We want you too.”

“Okay, okay, I guess until Andrew’s caught or until you have
to leave, we can continue on.”

Both men stiffened and she wondered for a moment if she’d
made a mistake. Maybe they were hoping she’d turn them down. But how did that
make any sense? Before she could puzzle out what had angered them they relaxed.

“Okay, darlin’,” Nash agreed. “We’ll settle for that.”

Settle? What more did they want? Too afraid to ask in case
she didn’t like the answer, Crista asked another question pressing on her mind.

“How will we get to the site? And I have to go, I can’t hide
from Andrew. That’s letting him win.”

There was silence then Quinn let out a loud sigh. “All
right. Nash, you take Crista on your bike, I’ll wait here for our friend the
deputy then get him to drop me off.”

“Okay. My spare helmet is in our room. I’ll get it and a
jacket.”

Nash ran off. Quinn pulled Crista closer to the building,
putting her back against the block wall. He completely covered her front.
Crista gulped. They really were taking this seriously.

“Listen to me. Nash is very protective over those he
considers his. We both are. He may seem easygoing, but push him and you’ll find
out just how unbending he can get. Don’t do anything to put yourself in danger,
Crista. Neither of us will react well if you are harmed.”

Rather than angering her, his words filled her with warmth.
They might not love her, but they cared enough to protect her. They had more
integrity and honor in their little fingers than Andrew had in his whole body.

“I promise.”

“Be careful with Nash. He’s riding a fine line and we don’t
want him stepping over the edge into full-on caveman. He might just knock us
both on the head and drag us off to have his wicked way with us.”

She giggled.

Nash returned and bundled her up in a jacket quickly. She
was roasting hot but didn’t complain. He hopped on his bike. Quinn helped her
on behind him.