Knots (8 page)

“He spanked you because of
me
?” Jeanie’s voice cracked, and she shoved up to sitting. Her heart about dropped into the mattress. She could never be okay with someone else being harmed because of her. How was that even something to consider? Why would he do that? Her eyes cut to the door once more.

Then something tightened inside her, and her clit actually throbbed.

Oh God . . . This sounded scary. And
way
too erotic for her own good. Why was her body reacting this way?

Her nipples tightened, and her breathing deepened.

Mark.
Spanking
.

Jesus—kill her now. Preferably with a paddle, since that was what she was now visualizing—she was
that
demented.

“Yeah.” Tia laughed again. “He knew I was baiting him. I was pushing him on purpose, being a brat. He never spanked me in anger. Actually, he thought it was fun. He got out his aggression, and I got exactly what I wanted.”

“You
wanted
him to do that to you?” Jeanie’s throat was painfully dry. She searched her dresser once more for that water bottle.

She blinked and realized she’d never set that thing there right next to the lamp. Mark must’ve done it. But when?

She ripped the lid off and gulped the rest down in several thirsty swallows.

“Of course I wanted it. I may not be in love with him, but he’s such an amazing man, and a fabulous Dom, that I wanted to help him. He was about to come unhinged. He needed an outlet, and since I knew he didn’t really want to be fucking me, it was the next best thing for him. He’s got the most incredible control. God, you’ll be so happy with him. Please, don’t . . .” Tia’s voice was strangled with thick emotions “ . . . just don’t hurt him, okay? He really loves you.”

“How can you say that? He barely knows me . . .” Jeanie shut her eyes and tipped her head back. Night. Mare. And she was stuck in the quicksand, already unable to get out. How had this happened to her? She came here to bury her husband, not get tangled up in a sexy man’s need to control her.

“He picked Pono’s brain about you anytime he could. He was constantly calling him and asking how you were doing, what you were both up to.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.” Tia swallowed. “But thankfully, Pono never picked up on what he was really doing. Mark would be in a pissy mood after—feeling guilty again for doing that to his friend. But he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to protect you, even though he knew you weren’t his. Mark has this deep need to keep you safe. You probably didn’t notice this either, but last time you both came to visit and had dinner with us, he moved your second glass of wine away from you. You were drinking too much and—”

“I had to. Mark made me extremely nervous, and the only way I could be around him was . . .” Jeanie trailed off. Christ—she’d just admitted to being . . .
what
? Insanely attracted to this man? Well, who the fuck wasn’t? He was gorgeous, and his intimidating demeanor meant she’d want him even more. Yeah, she could barely breathe around him either—he was that overpowering with his presence. And she craved it probably more than he craved her. But how would she ever admit that after her husband had barely passed? This was sick! She was a twisted bitch!

“I know, hon. I know. You were a nervous wreck around him, but he took your drink when you weren’t looking, dumped most of it into his glass and then he didn’t touch it.”

“Pono didn’t notice this?”

Tia chuckled. “That man was oblivious to everything going on around him. Besides, I’d distract him, chat him up so Mark could talk to you. But you would almost clam up and blush, and stammer. It was adorable.”

“I did?” Jeanie choked on her words. She was never any of those things. In fact, with Pono, she always worried she was being too bossy. Her entire life, she came across as confident and put-together. How did Mark turn her into this simpering fool without even trying?

“Think about it, Jeanie . . . Think about how you could barely look at him. Why do you think that was?”

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“You do too. You want him more than you can possibly believe. And you know he returns it. It’s like a fucking inferno being near you two. I kept thinking at some point you’d leave Pono and come after him, but you never did.”

“Dammit! I thought Mark hated me. I thought he couldn’t stand being around me, and he was looking out for his friend’s best interest.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because it was obvious I wasn’t the right woman for Pono. I didn’t make him blissfully happy,” Jeanie blurted.

“Ahh . . . Now, we’re getting there. This is what I kept telling Mark. You felt guilty. God, you two are quite the pair—Mark feeling guilty for taking any piece of you he could, like a greedy man, and
you
pushing Mark and Pono away because you’re insecure and think you can’t satisfy either of them. Stop doing that to yourself. It’s time to let yourself be happy, and I have no doubt you’ll be so happy with Mark, you won’t even recognize yourself anymore.”

“Hey . . . I can’t . . . I need to . . . I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay? I need to go to Pono’s parents’ house. But I . . . I’m sure I’ll need to,” Jeanie stammered. She was a mess, and her tongue was heavy and barely moving.

There was so much to take in, and her mind was spinning—unraveling fast. And now she had to deal with his family, when guilt already clouded around her.

But why? Why would she feel guilty? She hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Anytime, sweetie. Call me whenever you want. I’m here for both of you. He’s still my friend.”

Jeanie released a stuttering sigh. “Talk to you later.” She ended the call, and her mind raced almost as much as her heart.

How was she supposed to face Mark after this? And oh, dear Lord—Pono’s parents? How could she be near them when her head was now filled with images of Mark, staring at her during past get-togethers and him watching out for her, doing what was best for her?

The wine comment. Fuck! That really got to her. It hit her straight in the gut and funneled down to her pussy, making it clench and moisten. What kind of a man would take the time—give that much attention to a woman he might never have?

Her eyes misted, and her heart clamped down like those knots in her body were encroaching on its space.

She got up, turned the knob and took several deep breaths before walking out that door.

He was standing in the hallway a few feet away, staring at her door with a concerned look on his face.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and steady like the thrum of a heartbeat.

Even those two words from him did something to her. She braced her hand on her stomach to keep herself steady and from possibly throwing up.

“Did you hear my conversation?”

His nose wrinkled. “No, Jean. I respect your privacy. I kept a few feet away so I purposefully wouldn’t hear. I’m not a controlling asshole.”

“I know that,” she said, her chin tucked down and her gaze barely on him.

“We need to talk,” he began.

She held up a hand and swallowed, shaking her head. “It’ll have to wait. I need to get over to the Finaus’ home. If you don’t want to take me, then I’ll catch a cab.”

“No, you won’t. I’m going with you.”

She smiled for a second and reflected on what Tia had said.
Protective
. Yeah, he was. And it made her pulse speed up—
a lot
.

“Okay.” She blinked and shuffled toward him two steps.

“You’re not going to fight me on this? You seemed worried yesterday when I kept holding your hand and touching you.” His eyes searched her face.

“I was worried it looked like we were together as a couple,” she answered, her stomach flipping when she remembered her hand in his.

“And what if we were?”

“Gaaaawd,” she groaned and turned her head away from him. “I can’t handle this right now . . .”

“You need to tell me—what’s so wrong with it? I get you want to keep his family happy, but do you think they’d be upset if you found someone else to take care of you?”

Her head snapped toward him, and so many emotions bubbled up out of her that she had to clasp her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t lash out at him. Why was she feeling so violent? What was he doing to her? “Pono never took care of me!”

“I know, and it pissed me off to no end. He should’ve.”

“It’s none of your goddamned business,” she all but shouted.

“You
should
be angry. It was his job as your husband to take care of you, and he failed in that regard.”

“How would you know?” Her voice lowered and filled with painful longing, but not for Pono.

He took a few steps closer and stopped far enough away he couldn’t reach her with his hands. Was he doing this on purpose—acting like the proverbial carrot before the stubborn horse’s face?

Dear God, she was sweating again. It was like she was back in sweltering Phoenix instead of breezy, cool California.

“I know because I talked to him all the time. I told him he needed to step up and be a man—take care of you. You did too much for him and your marriage. He knew I was right, and he . . . Forget it.” His fists balled up. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you over.”

“Okay.” She dipped her head down, moistened her lips and said, “Thank you, Mark, for everything. I do like knowing I have a friend here that’s looking out for me.”

“I’ll always look out for you,” he said, his voice firm.

She nodded, went to grab her purse and decided she only needed a few bucks to buy herself some dinner afterward, so she left it behind.

When she went back in the hallway, he had one hand cupped over his forehead and looked deep in thought.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, stepping forward and without thinking, running her palm over his thickly muscled shoulder and down his side. He trembled for a second, then his piercing eyes swung on her.

“You’re touching me.” He stopped breathing.

“I am.”

“I . . . If you want . . .”

She was panting. God, she was so aroused, it wasn’t even funny. And here, all she’d done was touch his shoulder and ribs.

“I . . . don’t know what I want,” she admitted.

He turned to face her directly. “I know you’re scared and confused, but I can help you, Jean. Let me.”

“Help me how?”

“Give me two weeks. I can do this—I can show you things—open you up to love again.” His fingers flexed, then softened.

She blinked and her mouth gaped. “Mark . . . I . . .”

“Say yes. You need this, and so do I. Two weeks. You can even house-shop during that time, and I’ll help you with that as well. Just stay, and say two weeks are mine.”

“What does two weeks even mean?” Her forehead creased.

“It means you’re mine for two weeks—devoted to me.”

“I’m not a sub, and I need some time to myself. I know I was always working hard to please Pono, but I—”

He covered her mouth and looked completely anguished. “Please me. That’s all it means. Do what I say, and ask questions when you need to, but you focus on me entirely, and it’ll release you. You’ll be free—I
promise
, and I
never
lie.”

She swallowed, pressed her lips tight and when his hand fell away, she inhaled, then a barrage of words tumbled out of her—“I want the mornings to myself. I want to be able to cook dinner for you if I’m staying here for free for two weeks.”

“Oh, it won’t be free.” He smirked.

“I’m not a damn call girl.”

“Hey, I never said that.” He gripped her chin and gazed right in her eyes with so much focus and determination, there was no way she could look away, though she desperately wanted to. “You’re the most innocent, pure woman I know—and it’s one of the many things I love about you.”

“Love?”

“Yes, fucking love. I don’t know what Tia said to you, but I’m sure she mentioned that at some point. And just so you know, she reports back to her Dom anything you tell her, and most likely, he’ll inform me of what was said as well, so she—”

“Are you kidding me?” Her eyes narrowed. “So everything I just told her in confidence . . . ?”

He sighed hard and heavy. “I’m not trying to be a jerk here, but she knows what a Dom needs. She’s trained to know.”

“And
I
don’t know. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here . . .” Her eyes drifted down, and he tipped her head back.

“Don’t do that. Look. At. Me.”

Her eyes popped back up, and she bit the insides of her cheeks as her feet shifted around. “I’ll give you two weeks, but you’ll be disappointed. I’ve never been able to make a single man happy in my life. I try—I try really hard, but I always get it wrong.”

“You won’t with me,” he said, his gaze steady, his voice husky, “because you’re not going to be leading—I will. And I’ll make sure both our needs are always met. That’s another promise.”