Tangled Truth (6 page)

Always one for a challenge, Drew held Eva tighter to prevent
her escape, leaning over her shoulder and turning her slightly to look at her.
“Such as the thing about how turned-on you get when I tie you up.”

He kissed her before she could answer, muscling his way in,
giving in to the impatience that had plagued him all afternoon. They were both
breathing hard when he finally let up and continued talking.

“You don’t want to admit it, but it’s true,” he went on.
“And I don’t understand what the issue is. You have friends in the lifestyle.
Not just hobbyists, either. You know the deal. You don’t seem to have a moral
objection to it. You’re even agreeing to be photographed for a book about it.
It’s obvious you love this, bad experience or not. I can’t figure out why
you’re working so hard to fight it, Evie.”

A look of sheer misery crossed her normally implacable face,
and Drew’s heart nearly broke at the obvious pain.

“Is that the only reason you wanted to go out with me? So
you could do that?”

“The only reason?” Drew shrugged. “No, not the only reason,
but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about how you’d look that way. All
tied up,” he clarified, as his hands wandered from her shoulders and brushed
over her breasts on the way down to her waist. “From your neck to your feet,
nice and tight.”

“You said you weren’t in the lifestyle,” she whispered.

“I’m not. You already know I don’t have to do this to get
off. But I sure as hell like it. And I like you. And you seem to like this. So
why is it such a problem? Tell me.”

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’ve never
told anybody about this.”

“Well,” he said, using a finger on her chin to gently coax
her to face him again, “maybe it’s time you did.”

It was a long, tense moment of silence filled with muddy
thoughts and doubts. Drew was on the verge of breaking it when Eva finally
spoke, her voice coming out in a shaky little whisper as though she feared
being overheard.

“Tonight. Let’s get through the rest of the shoot, and then
I’ll tell you tonight.”

Chapter Six

She looked small and forlorn, sitting in the middle of his
bed that evening, wrapped in a blanket and clutching a mug of hot chocolate
laced with peppermint schnapps. Ready to tell her tale, but not happy to do so.

They had wrapped up the photo shoot earlier than usual, never
having hit that magical workflow Danny and Sheila so often achieved. Eva had
been withdrawn, thoughtful and compliant but not animated as they finished the
day’s tasks. She hadn’t complained when Drew drove her to his apartment instead
of hers, or when he settled her in the bed like the fragile invalid she
suddenly seemed.

Drew perched near the foot of the bed, hoping like hell he
had done the right thing in pressuring her to talk about it. She was pale, even
more so than usual, and her face was expressionless as she started to speak.

“It’s not what you’re probably thinking. I wasn’t abused or
anything. In fact, the more I think about it, the dumber it seems that it’s
even an issue.”

“Why don’t you just tell me? And then if it seems dumb,
we’ll take it from there.”

She sighed. “Okay. It started in high school. Or the summer
after high school. I had been dating the same boy for almost two years. Andy,”
she said, and a ghost of a smile whispered across her lips. “I think we both
already knew we would go our separate ways once we got to college, but we were
friends, we trusted each other. We had fun, and we were trying a lot of new
things that summer, going a little crazy.

“So this particular time, he’d decided to try tying me to
the bedposts. I was laughing at first, just going along with it. But once he
had me all tied up and started to touch me, I realized I really couldn’t get
away. And everything changed.” A shiver passed through her, but it didn’t look
like one of cold. Her eyes drifted shut as her story grew more intense.

“Andy realized something was different too. I was so
turned-on, and he barely had to touch me before I came. And even after that I
was asking for more. Begging. We sixty-nined and I came again, which had never
happened before. Andy started putting a condom on, but he was still kneeling up
over my head. I still had my mouth on his— I was still sort of returning the
favor…”

Surprised that she’d stopped her story in the middle of the
action, Drew gave her a second before prompting her. “And then?”

With a deep breath, Eva whispered, “And then my mother
walked in.”

“Oh fuck.” The picture was all too sharp in Drew’s mind. The
girl, naked and flushed from her recent debauchery, tied in an X. The boy, his
skinny haunches straddling her head, his freshly sheathed cock straining upward
while she nuzzled his balls from beneath. There would be no possible way to
explain that away. No way to claim it wasn’t exactly what it looked like.

“Yeah. ‘Oh fuck’ is right. She freaked out. Not only in the
way you might think,” Eva explained, the memory of her mortification still
marring her features. “I mean, she started screaming and hitting us both. Andy
was trying to untie me and still protect me from her, and then she said…” Eva
sniffled, and although she looked like she might cry at any moment, no tears
fell. She looked too cold for tears; they would surely turn to ice before
reaching her cheeks. “Then she said I was a sick pervert just like my father,
and that’s why she’d kicked him out, and now I could get out too. And we were
all going straight to hell.”

“Wow.” He thought he should probably say more but couldn’t
think of anything appropriate to counter what he’d heard. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I always thought he’d had a drinking problem or
something, and that’s why they’d split up. That’s what I’d been led to believe
up to that point, anyway. Turns out, not so much.” Eva looked ill, but
determined to finish. “I was coming here to college anyway, so Mom packed me
off early. Actually, she had me on a plane the next day. She sent all my stuff
after me later. I mean
all
my stuff, everything she had of mine. Baby
clothes, pictures. Everything. That was it, as far as she was concerned.”

“Sweetie, I am so sorry. That’s so… I don’t know what to
say.”

Drew’s own parents were still together after decades, and
happily so. They were pretty easygoing and pragmatic, on the whole. He
suspected if they knew about his bedroom predilections they might be more
concerned about potential liability issues than his immortal soul. He couldn’t imagine
what it must have been like for Eva.

“A few years ago, she called me up to tell me she forgave
me. She was going through some counseling program. You notice I didn’t say she
apologized or asked me to forgive
her
for anything. It’s obvious she
still thinks I’m a deviant. Like my dad, the famous pervert. Someday I may get
up the nerve to ask him what she was talking about.”

“He never explained? Doesn’t he know why she kicked you
out?”

She shrugged, plucking idly at the comforter, folding the
fabric in small pleats between her fingers. “I think she told him she’d caught
me doing something nasty with a boy. I gather from some comments he’s made that
she’d always had some issues with sex, but I’ve never asked him to elaborate on
that. We’re closer than we were when I was growing up, but not quite that
close. I mean, who talks about bondage with their dad? He’s remarried, and I
like my stepmother. They don’t
seem
like freaks.”

“What, no secret sex dungeon in the basement?”

“Not unless there’s a trick door hidden behind the washing
machine.”

“I think it’s probably behind that treadmill they never
use,” Drew suggested.

“You’ve been in my dad’s basement?”

“No. But all parents’ basements are pretty much the same.”

Eva chuckled, a welcome sound. “It’s stupid, I know. I’m
letting her control me more now than she did when I lived in her house.”

“Do you think it’s deviant? In the bad way, I mean? Do you
think there’s something wrong with liking bondage?”

She thought a moment before answering. “In theory, no. I
don’t think it’s a ticket to hell, either. My mom got religious in a big way
after my dad left, but I was already thirteen by then, so I guess it was too
late for her to pull me into all that. Though she certainly tried. Mostly, I
don’t think it’s anybody else’s business what two consenting adults do in
private.”

“And you know plenty of people who would be thrilled to tie
you up.”

“It’s true,” she admitted. “I admit that I’m drawn to people
who are in the lifestyle. I think it’s because that way I can get close to it,
see it, without risking myself. It’s the vicarious experience.”

Drew was surprised she was so candid, and so self-aware. “So
why not just do it?”

Eva met his eyes bravely. She seemed more relaxed, more open
than she had since he’d met her. “Because every time I’ve tried, it takes me
right back to that moment. There’s nothing less sexy than the memory of your
mother screaming, slapping you, and telling you that you’re a pervert who’s
going to hell. All while you’re naked, can’t move, and your boyfriend’s penis
is smacking you in the face.”

It was all Drew could do not to laugh. The image was so
awful but at the same time, so absurd. “Says you. I bet there are people who
pay good money to get exactly that experience. Ow!”

She had picked up one of the pillows and whacked him with
it. And she was smiling, which Drew took as a good sign. The relief was
palpable.

“I don’t even know if it’s actually what I want,” she went
on, “or if I’ve spent so many years wondering about it, wondering what if, that
I’ve psyched myself into believing that.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Drew tossed the pillow back to the head of the bed with an
easy overhand lob, then reached to the corner of the bed and pulled back the
comforter and sheets to reveal a second fitted sheet and the knotted
intersection of two thin ropes. A binding point. A series of similar ropes
provided sturdy attachment locations at all four corners. Handy, since he
didn’t have a bed with posters suitable for use in tethering a willing partner.

Eva looked puzzled for a second before the light dawned.
Then she turned a suspicious, but nonetheless curious, glance toward Drew. “But
you’re not in that lifestyle, you say.”

He shrugged and grinned. “I’m the bondage Boy Scout,
remember? It’s important to be prepared.”

“Uh huh. I should be angry with you for lying to me.”

“Lying? Not exactly. I told you I like it but I don’t
require it to get off. Hell, I’ll do you right now, no strings or ropes
attached.”

“But you prefer it. The ropes.”

“Sometimes,” Drew offered. “With some people more than
others.”

“With me?”

He sighed, a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh yeah. I’ve wanted
that since the first time I saw you.”

She considered that, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. Then
she said the three sweetest words Drew could ever remember hearing.

“Let’s try it.”

* * * * *

Distraction, Drew reasoned, was the key to success in this
endeavor. He also reasoned that working up to full restraint slowly was
probably the smartest plan, but then lust threw reason out the window. Drew
realized he might only get one shot at this and was determined to make the most
of it. Besides, he had never been one for half measures.

Unable to choose between the swift efficiency of a simple
tie-down and the chance to try something more decorative but time-consuming,
Drew decided to do a bit of both.

“We’ll start,” he explained, “with the rope cage.”

He was already running the chosen rope through his fingers,
shaking out the loops. It was plain hemp, nothing fancy. The design of the
binding would provide all the visual interest. He also knew he didn’t have
enough black rope on hand to do what he had in mind—most of his stuff was in
its storage bag at Danny and Sheila’s, awaiting the next photo shoot.

“Doesn’t this one have a Japanese name?”

“Not the version I’m doing. But it’s an adaptation of a
traditional
karada
, a body bind. Okay, stand right here. And take all
your clothes off.”

Eva lifted her eyebrows. “That’s…abrupt.”

Drew laughed. “Sorry, sorry. But seriously. This is going to
take some time. If I start romancing you right now, we’ll get sidetracked and
this probably won’t happen at all. Wow, I can see why a lot of guys who do this
are Dominants. That probably makes this part a lot easier.”

“Easier how?” She was shaking her head, but shucking her
jeans off all the same.

“If I were a Dom and you were my submissive, I’d tell you to
strip and you’d do it.”

Despite his intentions, he couldn’t resist helping with the
bra, and taking more time with the job than was probably required. But once Eva
stood, naked and stunning at the foot of his bed, Drew found himself itching to
start the rope work.

Around the back of her neck first, the center of the bight
marking the perfect bisection of the coarse rope’s length. Then the first knot,
a series of intertwined loops that pulled tightly together just below Eva’s
sternum. While he worked, he could ignore that Eva’s nipples were
responding—either to the cool air or to the situation—but when he took a step
back to assess the knot’s symmetry, he couldn’t help leaning right back in and
suckling one of the tight, rosy buds. Eva sighed and cupped the back of his
head, but when she tried to coax him up for a kiss, Drew smiled and resumed his
brisk but careful work with the rope.

Another knot over the belly, and his fingers brushed the
soft skin there in growing anticipation. The contrast between the rough,
prickly rope and Eva’s silky texture was enough to bring Drew’s cock to
attention. He had to get on his knees to accomplish the next knot, and he
groaned as the movement caused even more constriction in his jeans.