Reconstructing Meredith (2 page)

“Sorry, I’m being rude,” she said quickly. “Let’s go in the living room so we can sit. Do you want some coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Caffeine was the last thing I needed tonight.

I followed her down the hall into the small, spartan living room. She’d always had elegant taste, but what little she had in this room—a couch, a couple of chairs, an old television on an older makeshift TV stand—was probably all secondhand. The furnishing of someone who’d had nothing to her name and probably not a lot of money, and just needed a few things to get by for the time being.

At her invitation, I took a seat on the couch. She sat on the other end, keeping a cushion between us. Completely at a loss for how to break the ice, I watched her hug her knees to her chest and look anywhere but right at me. Conversation had come so easily for us back then, but we were strangers now. I searched her face and body language for signs of the woman I once knew. A hint of her unshakable boldness, her wry sense of humor, something.

Nothing. I found nothing.

What’s happened to you, Meredith
?

She finally managed to look at me. “Thank you for coming over. On such short notice and all of that.”

“No problem. You said you needed help, so…”

She bit her lip again, dropping her gaze to watch her fingers pluck away a phantom piece of lint from her pant leg.

Pulling my knee up on to the cushion between us, I turned toward her. “What do you need?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she faced me. “I need your help finding a Dom.”

“You— ” I blinked. Of all the things I thought she might ask me tonight, that hadn’t even crossed my mind. “
What
?”

“I mean, assuming you’re still involved with the lifestyle?”

“I am, yes.” I eyed her uncertainly. “I didn’t think you were. But—” I shook my head. “That’s why you called me over here out of the blue after all this time? So I could help you find a Dom?” Anger and jealousy surged to the surface, but I shoved them back. There had to be more to this. “What’s going on, Meredith?”

Shrinking away from me slightly, she ran a hand through her hair, and the hint of a tremor gave me chills. I wanted so badly to move closer to her, to put a hand on her knee or an arm around her shoulders, but something deep down told me she’d draw away. Not from me per se, but from any advance. Like a beaten dog flinching from the hand that tries to pet it.

“Meredith—”

She suddenly met my eyes, and amidst the fatigue and worry in hers, there was a spark of fierce determination. Finally, a piece of the woman I once knew.

She moistened her lips. “It’s a long story.”

“I know, you mentioned that on the phone.” I inclined my head slightly. “I have nothing but time.”

Swallowing hard, she dropped her gaze. “You probably heard I got married.”

“I did, yes.”

“Rich wasn’t just my husband. He was a…” She swallowed again. When she met my eyes once more, the faint shimmer of tears took my breath away. “Rich was my Dom. My… Master.”

A tremendous weight forced what little breath I had left out of my lungs. My shoulders fell.
That
controlling asshole called himself a
Dom
? Short of telling me he was a mass murderer, there wasn’t much she could have told me that could have turned my stomach more violently.

I found just enough breath to whisper, “What did he do to you?”

She blinked a few times. Sniffed sharply. Fixed her gaze on her wringing hands. “I’d been thinking about being a submissive for a while. It intrigued me for a long time, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it, what it entailed, that sort of thing.”

Inwardly, I cringed. Jesus, if I had known, I could have guided her into it. Shown her the ropes like I’d done with Kristen.

Meredith went on. “Rich saw that in me. He saw that I was inexperienced, but wanted to be a sub. Even though I hadn’t said anything, he knew.”

I winced, not even caring if she saw it. I’d seen the sub in her too, but she hadn’t been interested in kink while we were dating. Either uninterested or simply not ready.

“So he…” She trailed off, closing her eyes as she gnawed her thumbnail. “Long story short, he
made
me his sub. His slave, actually.”

“He forced you into submission,” I breathed.

She nodded. “It was hell, Scott. Every day, for two and a half years, it was hell.”

Rich, so help me God, if I ever get my hands on you
…

“I assume you’re divorced now?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I left a couple of years ago. I’ve only been back here for a little while, but the divorce has been final for almost eighteen months. Rich is out of the picture.”

“Good,” I said. “What I don’t understand, though, is why you want a Dom now.”

“Because he was right about one thing,” she said. “I am a submissive. I wasn’t ready to become one yet, I certainly wasn’t ready to be his, but I am a sub.”

“But, after everything he put you through—”

“I need someone who will help me pick up the pieces,” she said quietly. “I want to know what it’s like to enjoy being a sub.”

I swallowed hard. I knew what it was like to be a damaged sub. I’d been one years ago, albeit to a lesser degree, after a traumatic experience with a Domme before I became a Dom myself. But two and a half years of twenty-four/seven slavery with an abusive Master? How the hell did anyone pick up those pieces?

“Do you understand what it is I’m looking for?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “But are you sure? I would think you’d need to spend some time with a therapist before—”

“I have.” She gestured sharply and shook her head. “I’ve been to four. They’ve all helped me grieve my so-called marriage and move past the abuse, but when it comes to the sex and the kink…” She shook her head again.

I sat up and moved a little closer to her, barely resisting the urge to put a comforting hand on her arm. “What do they say about it?”

“They all think I need to just focus on relationships, try to get back into a ‘normal’ sex life, that kind of thing.” She looked at me, and there were more tears in her eyes now. “Rich ruined enough things for me, Scott. He took away a few years of my life. He beat me, he raped me, he let other people—”

I flinched, sucking in a breath. “Fucking hell.”

“They think I should focus on dealing with the abuse instead of exploring kink, but they don’t understand that part of letting him go is taking back my sexuality and making it mine instead of his. I need to take this back from him.” Meredith put her hand over mine. The cool dampness of her palm raised goose bumps along my arm. “It’s a part of who I am, Scott, even if I never got the chance to explore it before him.” She sniffed, then cleared her throat. “You were the only one I could think of who’d understand, and you’re the only one I trust enough to help me find someone who won’t hurt me like he did.”

I turned my hand over underneath hers, lacing our fingers together. “What if I told you I know a therapist who understands kink?”

She blinked. “You do?”

I nodded. “She’s involved in the lifestyle herself, and she’s helped a lot of traumatized subs.” Squeezing her hand gently, I said, “If I give you her number, will you call her?”

“Will you—” She hesitated. “Will you go with me to see her?”

“If that’s what you want, yes.”

“It is.”

“Set up the appointment, then. I’ll be there.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

I returned the smile, pretending this wasn’t all killing me from the inside out.

“What about the rest?” she said. “About helping me find a Dom? Will you?”

I said nothing for a moment, nor did I look at her.

She ran her thumb along the side of my hand. “Scott?”

“There’s only one Dom I’d let anywhere near you right now,” I said. “And that’s me.”

Meredith’s spine straightened and her hand twitched in mine. “Scott, we’re—”

“Do you trust me?”

She gulped. “Yes, of course. That’s why I called you.”

“Then let me help you.”

“But what about our—” She bit her lip, twin creases appearing between her eyebrows as a grimace threatened. “Our past?”

“It’s in the past,” I said. “I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me, though, have I?”

She shook her head.

“Which puts us well ahead of the game versus if I paired you with a Dom you’d never met.” I slid my other hand under hers.

“I can’t ask you to do this,” she said, dropping her gaze.

“I want to.” Lifting her chin, I said softly, “I don’t care what happened between us before. I want to help you now.”

She closed her eyes, pressing her lips tightly together as if struggling to keep her emotions in check.

“If you’re not comfortable with me,” I said, “I can find you someone else. But I’ve guided inexperienced and traumatized subs before. And I’ve been there, you know that.”

“I know.” She opened her eyes. “And I do trust you. I’m just…” She bit her lip, looking away once again.

“You what?”

She blinked a few times, and a tear slid down her cheek. She reached up to wipe it away, but I beat her to it, brushing it away with my thumb.

I caressed her cheek. “Talk to me, Meredith.”

“There are…” She met my eyes. “There are scars.”

Sweet Jesus, what did that bastard do to you
? “What kind of scars?”

“Ugly ones,” she whispered.

I moved a little closer to her and stroked her hair. “Do you really think I’d be repulsed by some scars? I’m not that kind of man, Meredith, you know that.”

She looked me in the eye, and when she spoke, her voice shook. “You haven’t seen them.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I touched her face again, then gently pulled her to me and kissed her forehead. “That son of a bitch hurt you, and I’m not about to let a few scars keep me from helping you pick up the pieces.”

She managed a slight but genuine smile. “Thank you, Scott.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ages-old habit took over, and before I realized what I was doing, I leaned in and kissed her lightly. It was only when my lips had been against hers for a few long seconds that panic swept through me. I pulled back, thankful I hadn’t gotten completely carried away and deepened the kiss like I’d
very
nearly done.

“Sorry, sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t be.” She put her arms around my neck. When she spoke again, her voice shook more than before. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone’s kissed me like that?”

I shook my head.

She drew me closer. “Way too long.”

I wrapped my arms around her. “Do you want me to do it again?”

She nodded, and when she swept her tongue across her lips, a shiver ran down my spine.

I moved in slowly this time, certain with every inch I gained that she’d come to her senses and pull back. As the nearness of her breath warmed my lips, my heart beat faster.

Just before I kissed her, she stopped me with a gentle hand on my chest. Another cool rush of panic surged through my veins.

“What? What is it?” I started to pull away, but she held me to her.

“It’s been a long time, Scott,” she whispered. “A long, long time.”

I ran an unsteady hand through her hair. “I know. If you want me to stop, I—”

“No, it’s not that.” She moistened her lips again. “I just want you to know that if you kiss me again, there’s a good chance I won’t want you to stop.” She swallowed hard. “At all.”

“So you’re saying,” I said, my heart pounding so hard I was surprised it didn’t add a vibrato to my voice, “that if I kiss you again, you won’t want to stop at just a kiss?”

“No, I won’t.”

I slid my hand around the back of her neck and drew her to me. “Thanks for the warning.”

Meredith had never been a timid kisser. I’d always loved the way she combed her fingers through my hair and explored my mouth with her tongue like it was the first time every time. She’d had no reservations about shoving me up against a wall and getting the passionate, full-body-experience kiss she wanted. Though she was a natural sub and I a natural Dom, the assertive and sometimes aggressive way she’d kissed had always turned me on.

Those days were gone.

I couldn’t tell if she held the front of my shirt so she could push me away if she needed to, or if it was so I couldn’t back away. Maybe she just needed something to anchor herself. Her lips moved slowly, almost apologetically against mine, and I didn’t miss the heartbeat’s worth of resistance before she let my tongue part her lips.

A submissive kisser was one thing. Submission aroused me, but this timid, tentativeness broke my heart. Her ex may as well have punched her, thrown her down the stairs, and sent her to work with sunglasses and extra concealer. He was no less a monster than a run-of-the-mill wife beater. Her spirit was just as broken, her body just as abused. Quite possibly more so.

I stroked her hair and held her closer. Sighing into my kiss, she melted against me, molding her body to mine as much as our current position would allow.

One hand released my shirt. A moment later, it came to rest on my thigh. As her palm slowly drifted higher, my pulse soared. This was a small advance, but an advance nonetheless. A flicker of confidence. The farther her hand moved, the more passionate her kiss became, and the hand on my shirt pulled me a little closer.

Then, just shy of my cock, her hand stopped. For a few seconds, it lingered there. Her touch was lighter now, less certain, as if she might lift it away at any moment. The tentativeness returned to her kiss, and she loosened her grasp on my shirt.

I put my hand over hers on my leg. I didn’t hold on enough to force her to continue, but gave a firm enough squeeze to ask her not to retreat any farther. I broke the kiss, but stayed close to her.

“Do you want to stop?” I asked.

“No. No, I don’t want to stop.” Her voice still shook.

“I don’t want to push you, Meredith,” I whispered, touching her face. “You’re calling the shots tonight, not me.”

“But you’re the—”

“It’s just me tonight. No dominance, no submission. Anything you want from me, it’s yours.” I kissed her again. “All you have to do is ask.” Curling my fingers just slightly, I hoped to coax hers into resuming its dizzying path. Her hand rested more heavily on me now, no longer in danger of pulling away completely, but not yet moving.

“There is one thing I want.” She spoke so softly, I wouldn’t have heard her if I’d been even an inch farther away.

“Tell me.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. Then she took a breath and looked at me. “I just want to feel…” She caught herself and her eyes darted away.

Running the backs of my fingers across her cheek, I said, “Tell me, Meredith. Whatever it is.”

When our eyes met again, there were tears in hers. I had a feeling I’d be seeing a lot of that in the coming days, and for the hundredth time, I wanted to strangle Rich.

“I need to remember—” Meredith swept the tip of her tongue across her lips. “I need to remember what it’s like to be touched by someone who doesn’t own me.”

Make that a hundred and one.

“He didn’t own you.” I struggled to keep my voice steady. “You were never his to own.”

The ghost of a smile flickered across her lips, there and gone before it could reach her eyes. “Maybe not, but I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be wanted as something other than a possession.”

I kissed her forehead. “How long has it been?”

Her cheeks colored “Before Rich.”

“Really?” I blinked. “You haven’t…since you left him…”

She shook her head and shrank back from me, avoiding my eyes. “After the divorce, I just didn’t want to meet anyone, and I—”

“Shh.” I caressed her face. “You don’t have to justify it.” I kissed her gently. “I was just curious.” Raising her chin and lowering my own, I looked into her eyes. “I was curious, and I want to make sure I’m not pushing you too far.”

She smiled. “You’re not.”

I started to speak, but her hand moved again, this time sliding over the front of my jeans. I closed my eyes, exhaling as she traced the outline of my very erect cock with the side of her thumb.

“Trust me,” she whispered against my lips, “you’re not pushing me. I want this.” With that, she pulled me to her, and I lost myself once again in her kiss and her touch. Even when her hand left my lap and slid around my neck, my arousal didn’t diminish at all. I held her tighter, kissed her, hoped to God this didn’t stop any time soon.

“Your shirt,” she murmured, struggling to untuck it from my jeans. “Get it… get it off.”

There she was, the confident woman I remembered. I grinned to myself and pulled my shirt off. I was accustomed to being the Dom, and in time I would be hers, but that would come later. Tonight, if she was willing to inch out of the shell into which she’d been forced, I was hardly going to make a move to put her back into it.

Before my shirt had even hit the floor, we were in each other’s arms again. Her kiss, more assertive now, sent shivers down my spine.

When she looked at me again, she said, “I think we should go someplace more comfortable.”

“Wherever you want.”

We released each other and stood. She took me by the hand and led me down the short hall to her bedroom. There, she flicked on the lamp beside the bed. The cat was on the bed, so she evicted him and closed the door, cutting off the brighter light from the hallway and leaving us with only heavy shadows and the bedside lamp’s dim, warm light.

Alone with Meredith and near darkness, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her again. She put her hands on my hips and came forward, nudging me back a step. Then another. Closer and closer to her bed, and my heart pounded. I was as nervous as I was aroused. Any of my past or present subs would have offered sworn statements that I didn’t even know how to get nervous, but I did.

And in a situation like this, did I ever. My God, I wanted her, but there were so many ways this could go wrong.

She gently drew her nails down my back, grinning into my kiss when I shivered. When she did it again, I broke the kiss and let my head fall back as goose bumps prickled every inch of my skin. I gasped at the softness of her warm lips on the side of my neck. She trailed kisses up to, then along, the underside of my jaw. I sucked in a hiss of breath when she nipped my earlobe.

“Like that?” she whispered.

“Oh, yeah.”

She shifted her weight to one side, then the other, and her height dropped a half inch or so. When one of her shoes brushed my foot as she nudged them to the side, I realized she’d kicked them off. I did the same and toed my own shoes out of the way so we wouldn’t trip over them.

She raised her head and met my lips in a hungry kiss. She pressed against me, urging me to take another step back. This time, my calf brushed the bed frame.

My God, we’re really doing this
.

Breaking the kiss, I looked down at her, searching her eyes for any reason to believe we shouldn’t go any farther. I found none, though. All I found was an unmistakable desire that mirrored my own, and that was enough for me to cautiously proceed.

I reached for the first button of her blouse, and she recoiled slightly, but when I tried to lift my hand away, she stopped me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“No, go ahead, I’m sorry, I…”

“Don’t apologize, Meredith.” I moved my hand from her blouse to her face, hoping she didn’t notice my unsteadiness. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want…” She hesitated, eyes meeting mine, then darting away, then meeting them again. Finally, she closed her fingers around my wrist and guided my hand back down to the top button. “Please.”

I watched her eyes as I opened that first button. Then the second. Then the third. No uncertainty, no hesitation. Nerves, yes, but I had those too, and she gave me nothing to tell me to stop or slow down.

Another button.

Still another.

She helped me untuck her blouse from her jeans, then watched my fingers undo the last button. With her shirt completely open, I ran my fingertip along her collarbone, then down the ribbon of exposed skin between her lapels. She sucked in a breath and shivered, closing her eyes as her spine straightened. My finger grazed her breast before snagging momentarily on her bra, and she whimpered softly.

I reached up to push her blouse over her shoulders, but when her breath caught this time, I froze.

“Wait.” She stepped back and shrugged her blouse off. When it was gone, though, she didn’t reach for me. She unclasped her bra, letting it fall away as well. Then she hugged herself, her shoulders bunching as they had when I first came through the door. It wasn’t modesty as far as I could tell, especially since she didn’t try to cover her breasts. If anything, she tried to hide from a phantom chill, one that seeped slowly into my veins as I watched her past try to drag her away from me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Meredith swallowed hard. “The scars I mentioned, they’re—” Her cheeks colored.

“What about them?”

“They’re…” With a sigh of resignation, she closed her eyes and gathered her hair, pulling it over one slumped shoulder.

“They’re on your back?”

Eyes still closed, she nodded.

A sick feeling rose in the back of my throat. “May I look?”

She hesitated, drawing a long, deep breath through her nose before she nodded again.

My heart jumped into my throat and my stomach coiled into knots. She turned around slowly, and I held my breath, bracing myself for whatever that son of a bitch had done to her.

As she turned, heavy shadows slipped off her body until her skin was finally visible in the low, warm light. I pulled in a sharp breath.

God damn you, Rich. Damn you straight to fucking hell with that shriveled piece of shit that passes for your heart
.

I knew the pattern the moment I saw it. The parallel lines of different lengths and varying distances apart, but roughly the same thickness, were unmistakable. To the unknowing eye, it looked like an animal had clawed the hell out of her.

To someone more familiar, they were the marks of a cat o’ nine tails, just like the one that had marked my own shoulder one distant, dark day in my past. I cringed. A cat o’ nine was for flogging, for raising a few welts and putting a sub into subspace. Not… not
this
. Not fucking
scourging
someone.

The scars went right across her spine, as if he’d hit her with no regard whatsoever for damaging skin or nerves by striking so close to bone. He probably hadn’t concerned himself with protecting her kidneys, either.

In spite of the urge to turn away from how badly he’d mutilated her, I looked closer. Some of the lines were scalloped along the edges.

“Meredith,” I breathed. “Were these sutured?”

“A few of them, yes.”

“How did,” I shook my head, blinking in disbelief before looking again and seeing that, yes, the scars were still there. “The emergency room didn’t report it?”

“Emergency room?” She laughed bitterly. “He was a surgeon. He stitched them himself.”

My stomach lurched. “What ever happened to ‘first do no harm’?”

Another humorless laugh. “Apparently he missed that lesson in medical school.”

I couldn’t look at the scars anymore. I put my arms around her waist and held her to me. “I am so, so sorry he did this to you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I can’t believe someone would do this.”

“Believe it,” she whispered. “Someone did.”

“So he did.” I kissed the side of her neck. “I promise you, I won’t.”

“I know you won’t. I was just afraid of…” She swallowed. “Once you saw them… if you…”

“Meredith.” I nuzzled her neck and held her closer to me. “You know me better than that. Did you really think I’d push you away because of some scars?”

She didn’t speak.

“Baby, look at me.” I released her so she could turn around. Once she faced me, I wrapped my arms around her again. “Honestly. You know me better than that, don’t you?”

Her cheeks darkened and she dropped her gaze. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“It’s okay.” I kissed her. “You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to repulse me. Like, getting a tattoo on your forehead that says ‘Scott Moore is a dick’.”

Meredith laughed, and that sound sent a rush of relief through me. She met my eyes. “Maybe I should cancel my tattoo appointment then.”

“Yeah, maybe you should. Now, come here.”

Tangled up in each other, we sank on to her bed. She was on top of me, giving my hands the freedom to explore her body while we alternated between lazy and passionate kissing.