Authors: Jenna Howard
She nodded, grunting softly when he pushed his fingers deep into her. “No games.”
“I take this very seriously. Not just protected sex but this. You say no, I will stop. You say something hurts, and I’ll stop and make sure it doesn’t. You say red, it’s hands off. If you’re nervous about something, you tell me. If you’re curious about something, you tell me. Now I know you’re going to have some triggers because of your past.” He slid his fingers free. “Eyes on me.”
She opened her eyes and he braced both hands on the window, staring at her. “You need to tell me what they are, right now. Because I need to know you can handle this, Kate. I will not be the one to break you because you’re keeping shit from me. Now. Triggers.”
She wished she could reach her bracelet, find the comforting shape. “Humiliation.”
He nodded.
“No needles.” They made her think of all the times she saw Mom or Jace jab something in their veins. Made her think of her mother dead. “I don’t know how I’d do with knives or blood. Sometimes it intrigues, other times gives me the skeeves.”
“Skeeves,” he said with a grunt. “Anything else?”
“I don’t think so, but I don’t know. But you won’t break me, Doyle.” She was already so shattered apart it was amazing she could function.
“Yes, I will. This is intimate, far more intimate than two people having sex. It’s about trust, which I know you have trouble with because of everything. I have eyes and I know who your parents are. It’s warranted, so I know you won’t blindly trust me. No, ouch, red, stop, I don’t know: all will make me stop. Even a flinch in your body will make me stop because you are going to be a cornucopia of triggers, Katey Jay.”
“Why are you doing this? Just last night you said this wasn’t my world.”
“I have been known, on occasion, to be wrong. I’m doing this because watching you surrender to me was sexy as hell. We’ll cover more in the morning, but right now I very much want to be inside you.”
She gasped as he drew her arms down, hooking them over his head. His hands were hot where they gripped her ass and he lifted her up the glass until they were eye level. Automatically she wrapped her legs around him, both of them shuddering to stillness when his cock pressed against her sex.
“Well aren’t you a pleasant handful.” He squeezed her ass and rocked into her. She shuddered at the sensation as the shirt was pushed up so the cool glass pressed against her ass, making her gasp. “Are you a virgin?”
She shook her head and found the room spinning as he carried her to the bed. His weight was heavy as he lay on her. He drew her arms free, stretching them over the mattress.
“I like this shirt. I like this shirt on you.” He freed one wrist and drew the shirt off so she was naked. He gazed down at her, then caressed a hand from the base of her neck to her tattoo. She arched at the touch, trying to stay with his hand as if her body craved him. “This is one helluva tattoo, Katey Jay. It’s one helluva pussy.”
She cried out, bowing as he pushed two fingers into her. The feel of them pressing deep, stroking along her as he eased out, made her jerk. Three times was all it took before the orgasm hit. “Right here,” he said as he began to caress the spot that made her entire body snap tight. A third finger slid in and a sharp cry escaped at the stretching fullness. Her hands were pinned down when he braced his hand on the chain of the cuffs, his fingers working her. “Eyes on me.”
It took a minute to focus on him.
“Let’s get you to that moment we both crave.”
Kate arched as his fingers slid within her. It was every fantasy she had about him but better. Ten times better. A hundred times better. Because what had she known? She hadn’t known the feel of his hands on her, how dark his eyes were as he watched her, what made him hard, how he made her wet.
“Hold it in,” he said, then he pressed down on a hard, leather knot. She screamed, bowing again as the combination of pleasure and pain hit her body. His fingers continued to fuck, pushing through muscles that automatically had tightened. “Hold it in. Take it in. Hold it in.”
She shuddered when he let the pressure go, his fingers moving more easily. Knowing what was coming, she made herself breathe deep. A cruel curl quirked his lips and he pressed on two knots. When he let go, it was as if everything washed away as the pain eased.
“There’s my girl. Beautiful.”
This time when the pressure on the knots came, his fingers kept up their steady rhythm. The pain was there, she felt it, but it was more intense, more a part of her.
“Who knew you were a screamer. I bet you scream when I fill you with my cock as you let anyone paying attention know you are getting fucked just right. Are you ready, girl?”
She remembered her words. “Yes, Sir.”
His fingers slowly dragged out of her, making her convulse as he hit the right spot and he eased up on her wrist. She lay there, her body flashing hot and cold as the bed shifted, his heavy weight disappearing. Opening her eyes, Kate watched him shove the shorts down to free his cock. He was a big guy. It was a big erection and her pussy clenched at the sight of the heavy weight, the tip glistening. He opened the drawer, pulled out a condom and sheathed himself. Watching Doyle kneel between her bent legs was one of those dreams she had always believed impossible. Just another dream to turn to dust, but there he was.
His hand stroked up from her tattoo, over her stomach and between her breasts until he cupped her chin in his large hand. Against her swollen folds she felt the firm head of his cock settle into place.
“One more scream.” He simultaneously pinched her clit and pressed down on the knots. She screamed, convulsing as he made it last. Made the pain tingle and burn, made the pleasure hurt. Her eyes snapped open as he thrust hard into her, filling her to the point of tiny hurts. “There you are,” he murmured and began to move.
She gasped every time he pushed into her. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he gripped her ass, lifting her to his thrusts. Oh, holy fucking…
“Doyle.”
“Hold it in.”
She cried out, arching as she fought what was building. The feel of him moving inside her was unlike anything she had ever felt. The press of his chest against hers, the movement of his hips against her thighs, the hot pants of air on her face every time he slid into her. She felt his hand between hers, gripping the chain while his fingers dug deep into her ass as he brought her into those hard thrusts.
“Pain or no pain when you come?”
She shook her head. She wanted to feel all of this. “No pain. No.” She gasped, arching as a low sound came from him his hips pumping harder into her. The rhythm of him hammering into her, the almost needy growl and her eyes snapped open as she twisted as something cold and unwelcome hit her.
“Whoa. Fuck.”
Immediately he slid out of her and the handcuffs were gone. Her hand fisted as her body jerked and she was yanked off the bed so fast her head was spinning. Cool air hit her face as her stomach twisted and seconds away from a mind blowing orgasm, she was throwing up all over Doyle Kole’s penthouse balcony.
****
Kate – 2002
The bedroom was massive. Kate Jace Jennings stood in the doorway and felt very small and inferior. There was a bed that looked like it was as big as Mom’s room had been. How was she going to get into it? Gripping her bag of meager possessions, she gazed at the white walls, the open balcony doors. There was a pretty white dresser that matched the bed frame and a cozy looking armchair.
This wasn’t a room for an eleven year old. It was a room one would find in a fancy hotel. While holding her bag against her chest, she began to rub the frayed knot on her wrist, back and forth, back and forth, as she turned to find a huge closet. She had one pink nightgown, one pair of jeans, three T-shirts, a week’s worth of pretty underwear that had come in a pack at the store, and that was it.
Her bed would fit in the closet.
The woman, the housekeeper, who had brought her upstairs smoothed her hands over the shiny and soft cover on the bed, fluffed a pillow, then looked at Kate, who clearly didn’t belong here. “You also have your own bathroom. Right through here.”
Kate followed her into a large bathroom and her stomach started to hurt at the sheer vastness of the room. Her reflection in the mirror said she was not in her world.
This is not my world.
“You do look like Mr. Jennings,” she said and Kate wished she remembered her name. “It will take some getting used to. Let’s put your things away and I’ll give you a tour of the house.”
“Is he here?”
She gave Kate a sad look and that tight feeling in Kate’s stomach spread into an ache in her chest. He wasn’t here. She tightened her grip on the bag and looked around at this room that was nothing like she had imagined it would be.
In her dreams, her bedroom had been something like a fairy princess would have. One of those beds that had a pink fabric canopy, fluffy pillows, and thick carpet she wanted to wiggle her bare toes into. It had been pink and purple with fairy tale creatures painted on the ceiling, so when she lay on the floor, they’d smile down at her. And he’d be here.
He’d smile and hug her and promise that she’d never have to go back to the trailer again. He’d sit on her princess bed and sing one of those songs that made her think of angels and hope.
This wasn’t a room for a long lost fairy princess. This was nothing like she imagined. This was the room for a stranger. Anyone could sleep here. A guest room. Her hand shook as she twisted the knot, tightening the ribbon on her wrist until it pinched.
She wanted a fairy princess room. It didn’t matter that she was too old for fairy tales and make-believe creatures on the ceiling. She wanted that room so badly. She wanted to matter to him.
“Let’s get you sorted,” the woman said as she gently eased the bag free, well aware Kate was standing there with more of her childhood dreams smashed on the floor.
She felt hollow as her bag was laid on the bed and unzipped. Her clothes barely made a visible pile on the bed and her jaw began to ache while her eyes burned. She had absolutely nothing.
Even in the trailer she had something.
Kate watched, numb, as her new underpants were set in one drawer and her nightgown in another before her shirts were hung in the closet. Kate turned, staring. They looked small and poor as they hung in the closet.
“You’re going to need a desk,” the housekeeper said, resting her hand on Kate’s head, easing the new school backpack off. “We’ll put you into the same school as the other children. Did you know that the other boys in the band have children too? There are the twins who are your age and little Shelby who is a few years younger. We’ll set up a date to for all of you to meet. If there’s anything else you think of needing, let me know.”
Kate needed her mom. In this moment it didn’t matter that she drank all the time and used all those drugs. Kate didn’t care that she hadn’t loved her. She needed her mom because she was familiar. Familiar was far better than this large bedroom where Kate felt smaller than small.
Staring at the bed, her fingers continued to worry the ribbon until she felt old fibers begin to tear. It was going to fall apart soon. There wasn’t any more length to make another knot. Then what?
She wanted her trailer.
She wanted to go home.
She wanted to matter.
There was no trailer.
There was no home.
And she very much didn’t matter.
Kate’s eyes closed and the tears that had been building up fell. Nothing. She had nothing. She was nothing.
Still…she wished he were here.
Chapter 5
Fucking hidden triggers. They were like bear traps buried beneath brush. If he heard “I’m sorry” in that broken, teary voice one more time, he was going to find Jace and throw him off one of the many balconies. She had shivered through the shower, even when he cranked the heat to as hot as he could tolerate. Like a tiny statue, she had stood there as he cleaned the vomit off her. Whatever color had been in her face had bleached out, making her look like a pale, china doll. Only little bruises around her wrist from her knots had given him proof of life. No fidgeting. He had put her in his shirt and put her in his bed. As much as he wanted to join her, he hadn’t.
Now she slept, curled in a protective ball but so petite she barely made a dent in the covers. “Fuck,” he said as he retrieved his phone and thumbed in on. The clock said it was five twenty two. He found the right number and listened to the phone ring two times before a sleepy voice answered.
“Doyle? What’s wrong?”
“I need your help, darlin’.”
Claire was quiet. “Are you drunk?”
“No, though I’m wishing I was.” He rubbed his finger over his eyebrow. “Some of my shit is hazy so I need some help recollecting.”
“About what?”
“Kate.”
“Kate who?”
Fuck. Seriously? “Jennings, Claire. Kate Jennings. Jace’s daughter. Do you remember when she arrived?”
His ex-wife was quiet whether from surprise or thinking back. “Not really. Sorry. My head was all about Willow. Why?”
Because she had thrown up having sex with him and shut down on him. Maybe if Claire knew more, he’d mention it. “Never mind. I was just trying to see if I remembered something correctly. Go back to sleep.”
“Are you sure you’re clean?”
“Squeaky.” He hung up and tossed the phone aside. “Fuck.” Kate who. Seriously? When he looked back at her, her eyes were open and she was watching him. He had never seen sadder eyes than hers. Even when he had been hammered, he remembered how sad her eyes were.
Belinda Carver was the last person who should’ve been a parent. Next one on the list was Jace Jennings. Together they sure as hell shouldn’t have been parents. That Kate had turned out the polar opposite of both of them seemed like a miracle to him. Both Beli and Jace had been selfish users. Jace hungry for success, Beli hungry for him to succeed. Not that Jace-fucking-Jennings would’ve brought Beli along for the ride. They had fucked and fought, drunk and fought, shot up and fucked all while the band had been trying to do something. Anything. A bunch of kids with a dream. Two things had happened at once: Belinda got knocked up and miracle upon miracles the band had been noticed.