Bound by Accident

Moreland Brothers 1

Bound by Accident Makenzie has given up much to help her loved ones. She gave up on her hopes and dreams of artistic fame. Her life consists of her job, making love with herself, and painting in the wee hours of night. Until one fateful Friday ends with her car pinned to a tree. The man who helps her that evening belongs to her. She sees it in his eyes, intense and burning. Charyn Moreland is a Master of bondage arts, yet no woman ever touches him. He stopped looking for Ms. Right after catching his ex in bed with his brother years ago. But once he encounters Makenzie at the scene of a terrible car accident, their gazes lock and he is going to have her regardless of what he has to do. She is his. But after a single night of scorching passion, can he convince her to trust him? Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Interracial Length: 63,905 words

BOUND BY ACCIDENT Moreland Brothers 1

Jennifer Willows

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer. WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

BOUND BY ACCIDENT Copyright © 2011 by Jennifer Willows E-book ISBN: 1-61034-912-1 First E-book Publication: November 2011 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Bound by Accident by Jennifer Willows from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Jennifer Willows’ livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Willows’ right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION To my father, you were a wonderful man and your daughter misses you every day. My only regret is that you didn’t get the chance to know about the fact that I’m now a published author. You would have been so proud of me. To my loving husband, Maurice, you make every moment of life with you one of adventure and spice. I am the luckiest woman in the world to have you supporting and loving me. Plus, you gifted me with two big-head children who are too smart for their own good. To the persons who edited my book, thank you for helping me create a work that I am proud to show the world. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the criticism and compliments. Last, but not least, thanks to the friends in my life who dealt with my attitude and lack of phone calls when I was a busy little bee working on this book. Lunch is on me, ladies.

BOUND BY ACCIDENT Moreland Brothers 1 JENNIFER WILLOWS Copyright © 2011

Chapter 1: Tale of Two Cities Five years ago, New York City Makenzie Stafford-Johns was not having a good day. She looked at her haggard reflection along the mirrored gallery wall. Her face, while still the same, was pinched and flustered. On a good day, Makenzie was usually compared to Jill Scott, with her medium-brown skin, delicate features, wide eyes and mouth. She was built like Jill, too, on the thick side on a bad day at a size twelve. Her breasts were a full D cup, and she had just a little behind. Enough so she wasn’t entirely flat in back, although most men in her experience preferred more. The reason she looked so haggard was bad news, although it had been awhile since she had any of the good variety either. Deciding she needed time to think, she left work at the gallery early and walked to the nearest entrance to the subway. Her mom had called her on her cell, just before her last break of the day. The news she had gotten during the call made her scared, more than scared. Hell, terrified may be more appropriate. Her mom had cancer, and her insurance dropped her when she got laid off last month. The seemingly innocent

Bound by Accident

9

conversation replayed in her head over and over again during her trip home. “Makenzie, I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?” “I always have time for you, mom. What’s up?” “I’m sick.” “Do you need some money? I have some extra cash I can send if you need to pick up some TheraFlu or something,” she had said, even as the thought crossed her mind that it wasn’t really extra if she wanted to eat something aside from Ramen noodles this month. “It’s not that kind of sick baby, although I wish it was.” “Then what kind, mommy?” Her mom was silent for long moments. Enough time to have her check the phone to see if the call dropped. “I have breast cancer.” If she didn’t make a way fast, her mom could die without treatment. She took the way home on autopilot, not seeing anyone or anything around her. This was a dangerous undertaking at night in this city, especially considering her youth and beauty. She had lived here for two years, one of them with her boyfriend, Sean. When she walked in the door of the apartment, she was sobbing, unsure of what to do or how to do it. She met Sean a year ago at a soiree the university was having at the gallery. At the time she thought him handsome, with his darkbrown bald head and long, lean body. When she spoke to him, she was sprung, as she loved nothing more than a big brain. But in the time they were together, they barely had sex. If she was lucky it was once a month. Most of their relationship had been spent working on his doctoral thesis, and he wouldn’t change his drawers or eat if she left for too long. They were more or less roommates at this point, and Makenzie didn’t think he’d realize it if she just suddenly up and left for good. Speaking of which, Sean was sitting at his computer as usual, so lost in theorems that he didn’t hear or see anything but the complex

10

Jennifer Willows

codes in front of him. He lived, slept, breathed astrophysics, and was working on a theory that would change the world of space travel. Makenzie, used to being ignored in favor of intellectual pursuits, just walked to her room, still sobbing. Picking up the beaten, old cordless phone next to her side of the bed, she dialed her best friend Charli’s number by rote. Her friend kept her sane these last couple of years, even with the distance between Wilmington and New York. Especially with the time she wasted, years of trying to make it in the city, her paintings not exotic enough in a period of distinct “isms.” Most popular artists now didn’t create an individual, realistic work. She worked in a gallery, and most of the stuff that sold was crap. To Makenzie it was simple. Regular, everyday people like real art, not this frou-frou garbage without substance. Yet after many hours wasted walking the streets of New York, in two years, no one had taken more than a cursory glance at her portfolio. Gallery owners would do a sweep, eyes scanning like they didn’t see her or her work. Their final expressions always appeared the same, a collective and resounding, “How unfortunate for you.” As though her work was crap, and it wasn’t. She knew it. But as circumstances lay, dreams or not, she had to go home. Her mom needed her. The phone was ringing, and seconds later, her friend greeted her. “Hey, boo!” There was a lot of noise in the background. Charli was most likely at a party, having the time of her life. “Hey.” Mak knew she should try to keep the sadness from her voice, but she needed her best friend to care. She lived in a city with millions, and ninety-nine percent of them wouldn’t spit on her if she were on fire. It was a world of difference back home in East Bumfuck, North Carolina. Folks in small towns were nosy. If someone blew a flat, their first cousin would know two hours later. Then the same cousin will call, fussing, because there was no phone call asking them to come and fix it. “What’s wrong? Hold on.” Charli’s voice was going in and out, and when she spoke again, she was somewhere blessedly silent. “Now

Bound by Accident

11

what happened? Is it Sean? That egghead boy ain’t shit, Mak. I’m telling you, genius or not, that chile’ is a bit touched.” “No, Charli, it’s not Sean. It’s mom.” With that said, Mak gave her best friend the nitty-gritty. Charli kept her mouth shut, as there was nothing she could say that could even make sense of how horrible the moment felt. Ms. Sharon was everybody’s mom. Back in the day, all the kids in the neighborhood knew they were always welcome in her home for refreshment, hugs, or just a snack. Ms. Sharon was the glue that kept many of their peers out of trouble, away from the long arm of the law. “Dang, I’m sorry, Mak.” Charli was crying along with her best friend, both weeping into their phones. Charli just started rambling, and apparently tuned her out. Makenzie could tell her friend’s mind was racing. But her mental wanderings apparently had purpose, and she hit on a solution. Charli put the brakes on Makenzie’s chatter, giving her the meat of her impulsive plan. “Wait a sec, I have an idea. One of the hiring managers at the phone company, Jack, loves to smoke. He’s bought a lot of grass from me over the years, and I can tug some strings with him. If I take a bit of stashed rainy-day money, then we could help pay for the three months of treatments while Ms. Sharon is uninsured. The job will cover her chemo and meds later. I’ve already got a house we can all live in. It’s perfect, a two-family duplex right in the heart of Wilmington. As a matter of fact, I’m having a party in the unoccupied unit right now. I live in the other half. If I put in a small investment, the spare side would be lovely. It just needs paint. Maybe carpet, too.” Makenzie agreed without thought, knowing something had to happen fast to help her mom. The decision she made in that moment to let her childish fantasies go hurt. But, she was sure this spelled the end of the road for her dreams, since she wouldn’t make it at this rate for too much longer anyway. Each rejection of her paintings killed her slowly and had nearly crushed her spirit. She was just holding on to her soul by the skin of her teeth, and nothing here seemed worth

12

Jennifer Willows

fighting for anymore. When she walked out of her bedroom and glanced at the gentle giant of a man hunched over a laptop computer, the first thought to cross her mind was that even he wasn’t worth attempting holding on to either. A week later, after running in circles trying to get ready, Mak was in a rental truck, the smallest she could find, since she only had boxes. She didn’t own any of the furniture and most everything in the apartment was Sean’s. He hugged her goodbye at the door, and Makenzie imagined he promptly forgot her as soon as the truck pulled off, after he went back to his desk. More than likely he wouldn’t feel disturbed by her absence until the power went out in a month for nonpayment. She usually paid the bills, using his and her separate checking accounts, so he could work most of the day at his computer. **** Outside Wilmington, North Carolina Charyn Moreland was also having a bad day. He was getting ready to close the sale on his house, and his fiancée, Tami Worthington, was being more than a bit bratty. “Is this our vacation house?” Tami asked, tossing a long blond lock over her shoulder. “Nope, I want to live here year-round. The commute to the office won’t be horrible, and it’s right off the beach.” “That’s nice, granted. But it’s somewhat small, don’t you think? Are we demolishing it and rebuilding?” The questions grated his nerves, and his response was a bit sharp. “There are at least five bedrooms, Tami.” His belly was near empty and growling, as their dinner an hour ago was a joke. How in the world Tami thought the tiny meal served at the chic restaurant would satisfy him was beyond his comprehension. It was always the same, every night he went out with her. Another trendy eatery complete

Bound by Accident

13

with minimalist tiny plates and at exorbitant prices. At this rate, he’d die from starvation before he could marry her. She pouted slightly. Once upon a time the motion used to be cute. Not any longer, a year after they began dating. All he felt now was a vague sense of boredom peppered with the occasional bout of annoyance at her spoiled behaviors. He noticed exactly how fast he was going and attempted to slow down, despite how antsy he felt. Charyn was ready to take her back to her house, a palatial estate fit for South Carolina royalty. Tami’s family was well-known, and some of her ancestors came over on the first expedition of the new country. She was a debutante, had a coming out and everything. She was used to the finest in life and had no hesitation in asking for more. Her father and uncle were senators, and her father had White House aspirations. They were American blue blood and preferred every person meeting them knew it. Nothing was sacred for Tami, not even their relationship. Any means was worth the end to her. Hell, her last name may as well be Machiavelli. He didn’t even really know why he proposed. Thinking about it, he barely tolerated her or her damn family. They made the drive to Tami’s in silence and not even the radio intruded. Charyn was silent, his thoughts riding him hard. This wasn’t going to work. She didn’t even like bondage, in fact refused to even let him try. After making several attempts to discuss it, he grew tired of feeling like a monster attempting to rape an innocent, instead of a man making love with his intended bride. Really, that was the point where he should have let her go. Only thing was his pride wouldn’t let him admit he’d made a mistake. But now all the old reservations came back, and he didn’t see how he let the farce go on so long. Charyn watched Tami pout prettily, but he was through at this point, and she wasn’t going to get any more of his attention. He knew she saw the way he ignored her now, and over time he’d become less tractable to her wishes. During the entire ride Charyn felt like he had

14

Jennifer Willows

a weight on his chest, a hundred twenty or so pounds of wily debutante pouting the whole ride south. When they arrived at Tami’s house, Charyn knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t really care about her, wasn’t in love with her, but he wasn’t a man who could be deliberately cruel. Not to a female. His mom would skin him alive, with good reason. But when Tami looked at him and asked him to come inside with her, he didn’t want to add insult to injury. It’s a damn shame, he thought, when a man has a model-perfect woman offer sex on a platter and he would rather not take her up on the offer. The thought disgruntled him so badly, he begged off, claiming to need to meet a contractor for the house. But he would have to break it off tomorrow. Coward, his thoughts mocked him, as he drove away, headed back to his new home. **** Tami Worthington could see her fiancé was no longer interested in marrying her. Their relationship had degraded to the farce of a marriage her parents had already, and while that was fine with her, she saw he wasn’t buying it. Everything could have been so perfect, if not for the latest debacle with this house. She couldn’t imagine living in the confines of that tiny wreck of a beach cottage on a permanent basis. Please, her pool house was bigger. Maybe she could have a last hurrah in bed with Charyn before she kicked him to the curb. Even if she wanted to dump him, he still had wonderful cock. Breaking up was the best thing she could do, for herself. It was a shame though, especially considering his looks. She was going to miss him, with those penetrating hazel eyes and strong jaw. Another plus was his height. There were many men Tami could look in the eye, but not him. He even towered over her in her four-inch heels today, and those put her just over the six-foot mark.

Bound by Accident

15

Tami looked at Charyn out of the corner of her eye, noting how dangerous he appeared. She shivered, and Charyn, being a gentleman, turned up the heat. She wasn’t going to do much better. Not only was his background passable, there was also old money in his family. But at this point, she couldn’t manipulate him to her desires, and she needed a man she could play to her advantage. Let alone that freaky crap he kept asking her for. That was why men had mistresses, so they could indulge fetishes with women just as nasty as they were. “Will you come inside?” Tami tossed her skein of hair over one shoulder and batted her eyelashes. He hemmed and hawed, making every excuse in the book. She saw through the transparent reasoning he gave for not fucking her brains out tonight. Angry, the beautiful blonde made her way inside. Tami was fuming and wanted to make her fiancé feel the burn of insult. The same way he left her feeling tonight. There was only one way to do it. He wouldn’t care about any random man fucking her, most likely would freeze up and leave in silence. But…he did have two really gorgeous brothers. Which one would be willing to play into her hands for a game of revenge? She twisted the delicate engagement band laden with a huge multifaceted diamond, deciding what she should do. At three in the morning, Tami climbed out of bed, refreshed from her beauty nap. She had to look her best, as she was plotting seduction and had to get going if her plan was to work. She made her face up with care, dressed to kill. She climbed into her BMW Roadster and made her way to Wilmington. Parking in the reserved-guests slot at the youngest Moreland brother, Marques’, downtown condo, she slipped inside using the key under the welcome mat. Charyn always came over on Saturday mornings for a game of one-on-one basketball, and she saw him use the key more than once. It wasn’t until she climbed in bed with her chosen lucky man that she saw a major problem with her plan. Her quarry was drunk as a skunk, and it would take an act of god to bring his cock upright. After a solid hour of

16

Jennifer Willows

working on his cock, it still only raised to quarter mast. Frustrated, Tami settled down for a nap, tired wrists and sore mouth notwithstanding. That morning Tami knew she made a mistake when she heard the door open, but it was too late. Not only was she going to exit this situation humiliated, but she didn’t even get what she came for. The bright lights of post-dawn and the open floor plan of the loft would easily reveal her in bed with his brother. She had no place to go and hide. Now she had no options but the one she established with the initiation of her plan. She didn’t know how to be honest, and a lifetime of lies made it impossible to tell the truth. The first lie spilled forth. The rest just heaped on top of the first, and she knew she was caught. Looking out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Marq stirring awake. She just hoped he was too drunk to realize that he didn’t fuck her. Maybe then she could still make her wrecked plans work. “I’m sorry, Charyn. I just couldn’t help myself. I was angry and got drunk and…” Tami sobbed crocodile tears, face tilted into her hands. She knew the jig was up when he ignored her and took her lovely ring. Damn it, she really loved that ring. Rare, it was a refitted heirloom Winston. She should have left it at home, she thought, and Tami mentally castigated herself as she got dressed. The entire time Marques was silent, until she was forced to do the walk of shame to her car. Then his laughter followed her out the door and across the lot. Tami even imagined hearing Marques laughing when she had to give her father the white-washed version of what happened to her perfectly suitable fiancé this time, when she cited his extreme sexual habits as the reason for the split. What the hell, daddy was used to it. Charyn was only the most recent broken engagement. There had been several over the years.

Bound by Accident

17

Chapter 2: Mission Makpossible Thursday afternoon, present day “You know, Charli, you need to get moving, girl. I gotta get back on the jack for the escalation queue,” Makenzie said, pointing to her live headset, a canned recorded greeting playing in her right ear. “Either way, Mak, you need to make a choice, your art or this dead-end job. You have too much talent to waste it here…” Whatever Charlene said next was drowned out with the voice of an exasperated rep asking for her to deal with a particularly angry lawyer. She wished she hadn’t said yes, as she heard the ridiculous cursing of the male on the other end of the phone. “I hate you! What the hell is wrong with you people! The nerve to turn off my fucking phone! I’m a businessman and I need my damn phone so hel—” Before the situation could get any tenser, Makenzie interjected, “I’m here to help, sir, if you will allow it.” Calming the irascible man took fifteen long minutes, but calming herself took much longer. Squeezing her favorite stress ball labeled “I hate workdays,” Mak walked down a couple of flights of stairs, headed to the bus stop often claimed by smokers during cold or inclement weather. “I’m gonna quit, soon,” Makenzie said ruefully to herself. “Just not today.” She wasn’t a frequent smoker, but when she was having a bad day… After her smoke was finished, Mak rode the freight elevator back to the fourth floor, which the disgruntled employees dubbed the “seventh realm of hell.” The slow ride was lengthy enough to send a

18

Jennifer Willows

quick text message to her mom. A natural-born worrier, if she didn’t get regular messages and phone calls, her mom saw no problem lead footing the three hours from Charlotte to Wilmington, just to “make sure my baby is okay,” as her mom loved to put it. Makenzie was once again muttering to herself as she stepped off the elevator. “Why do you do this to yourself, Mak? You know you’re better than this J.O.B. As is, that’s why Charli is mad at you now. You could have gone somewhere else, with more for black folks or flava, something better than this. Like mama loves to say, you made your bed, now you gotta lay in it. Next time, don’t lay down with the dog, and you won’t get bit by fleas.” Forgetting the job for the moment, she walked back to the desk slowly, lingering on the last few steps until the break was over and she was once again tied to the phone. With no end in sight, the remaining hours crawled by, until finally the day was at a close. Her temperamental ride, which had been begging for a new radiator, coughed and died, leaving her stranded on the side of the road after overheating. But with a jug of antifreeze and time, Mak was able to rest her tired bones with a solo supper of crab salad and greens, and a savored snack of Ben and Jerry’s finest Aloha Macadamia. Eating at a snail’s pace, she channel surfed, looking for something better than what was on. “Why is it,” she pondered aloud, “that I have a thousand-plus channels and nothing’s on but reality TV and the news? Even Netflix sucks right now. New movies, my ass…9 1/2 Weeks, while great, is definitely not new. Uggh!” Sucking air between her teeth, Mak decided to pull out her new toy, an e-book reader by a popular book retailer. While it definitely set her bank account back a few coins, the thing was awesome. She loved using any chance she got to show it off like a proud mother flashes innocent strangers her kids’ pictures. Turning on the hot-pinkskinned reader, several hours went by unnoticed, until midnight, when her smartphone buzzed reminding her of her date. The late-night conversations with Charli were a holdover from when she lived in

Bound by Accident

19

New York and they made a standing date every night for oldfashioned gossip. Grabbing a few key items, namely her bath bubbles, a glass of moscato wine, an earpiece and phone, she headed for her garden tub. Making the bubble spa of her dreams by rote, she pulled her ’fro into a quick bun and climbed in. The water was hotter than most people could stand, but the extreme heat calmed her tight muscles and relaxed her with its spicy and sensual sandalwoodjasmine scent. Popping the earpiece in her left earlobe, she grabbed the phone just as it rang. “Missed me?” The female voice was husky and trying to pull off a terrible cheesy male accent. “Hell no, I didn’t,” was Mak’s chortling reply back. Reclined in her tub watching bubbles floating by, Makenzie went silent, knowing where tonight’s conversation was likely to go considering Charli was worse than a dog with a bone. “Stop lyin’ to yourself. You know I’m the highlight of your day.” Laughing harder, Mak agreed. “And you’re right, but you can still kick rocks with Jesus sandals, wench!” “Look, Mak, you are wasting away your youth on someone else’s phone.” Makenzie heard Charli exhale a puff of smoke. If the choking were any indication, Charli was indulging in a favored pastime, some exotic weed and a Newport. “You think I don’t know that? But when mom was sick, I needed a job with benefits for elder dependents, and this company was one of the few that offered them.” Makenzie grew silent, thinking about grim memories of her mother almost dying from breast cancer a few years before. The blessing that the lord didn’t want her yet still amazed her daily. “It’s all right. She’s okay now. You did what you had to, then, that is. But what about now? Not so much. I think it’s just easier for you to stay because you’re used to it. Not because you have a burning desire to give an asshole reasons to wake up and smell the coffee.”

20

Jennifer Willows

“Touché, Charli, I haven’t done anything yet because I couldn’t give myself a reason to think about the future, not without mom, and it was just easier to be satisfied with the status quo.” “I’ll give you that, Mak, but what about now? Don’t be one of those people holding out for a pension and a plaque. You were made for more than that, and your art should be in a gallery somewhere, with folks running in gaggles to gawk at your paintings and sketches.” “Geese gaggle, Charli, not people,” Mak said, sotto voce, covering her natural response to snicker with a snort instead, failing miserably. “Yes they do honey, ’specially the types that would buy your art. You know the ones, thin with angular glasses and asexual outfits, the guys and girls look alike, but the girls wear less makeup? Definitely sounds more like a gaggle to me because imma giggle when I see them at your show.” Sputtering, Mak laughed. “Ha ha ha ha, so funny Charli. Bet you won’t be laughing when you see the one I made of you.” “What! You didn’t tell me anything about that. Damn heffa, I wanna see.” “Maybe if you’re good, Santa will show you, instead of a lump of coal like I already brought you.” “Kick rocks, Mak, you know I’m going to get my way. You may as well pony it up. Either way, please don’t think that I forgot we’re off topic. I haven’t forgotten anything. You know you can do better with yourself. What happened to the girl who was so gung ho to make something of herself? As I recall it, you were the one that said you were going to get out of here, that north kakilaki didn’t have the artistic presence you needed to get your jump-start. Am I wrong, or am I right?” Makenzie could hear the smirk creeping in her best friend’s voice, but chose to ignore it, for the moment. “Yes I did, but family comes first.”

Bound by Accident

21

“That’s why I love you girl, but you shouldn’t defer your dreams any longer. Who knows how long any of us are going to get? I think it’s time for a little challenge. Your mission is”—she hummed the Mission Impossible theme song briefly—“to take the portfolio of your art to a gallery and get them to take at least one piece of your work.” Makenzie, even knowing where the conversation was headed, was struck silent for a moment. Old fears climbed to the forefront, reminding her of the failures she had during her stay in New York, trying to succeed in the competitive art world. Yet another endeavor in a short list that she would rather forget she had indulged in. “It’s not that easy Charli—” “Why not? You’re talented, and I know that you must have nearly fifty completed pieces on standby. You really think that you can’t offload just one? Don’t try to hustle a hustler, boo. You know that is gonna be a waste of time.” “Okay, okay you convinced me. You gonna take pictures with me? I haven’t taken any of the new series yet for my portfolio.” “Sure, why not? At least that way we can be sure you won’t chicken out…” Charli made a chicken sound, and snorted once. “That’s cold-blooded, Charli. I said I would go along with your crazy idea. The least you could do is shut up now.” Makenzie was vainly hoping that her agreement to this insane pact would at least silence her best friend’s mocking tones. “Either way, Mak, you’re game or you’re lame. Which is it? Because I’m not letting my BFF sell herself short. As the saying goes, friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” Charlene quipped. “I don’t even want to know what that is supposed to mean. You must be higher than a kite, Charli, and I’m not much better, wasted as I am off this wine. But yes, I’m game, but you gotta be game, too.” “First off, it is what it is. You want better for yourself, and I know you do. At this point, you’re like a drunk, unable to navigate your life due to the mental blocks that you let stand in your way. Second of all, what chu’ talking about, Mak? Of course I’m in. I am the diabolical

22

Jennifer Willows

creator of this enterprise. Where else am I going to be? But in, that is?” “No, I mean, if I’m going all in, you’ve got to, too. Your mission is to open a legit business. No more selling weed. We’ve gotta be grown with ours now…I know you’ve got enough stashed away for a rainy lifetime, but still, you need a real business you can pay taxes on and make Uncle Sam happy, so he don’t raid your house. For real, the college kids have made you rich, so may as well quit while ahead, right?” “True, true…” Charli seemed to ponder her next words carefully before responding. “Okay, I’ll take that. Seems like there are a few too many coincidences lately, and I could end up with one time.” Makenzie chuckled at Charli’s offhand slang term for police. “Or the feds roosting at my doorstep. Give me two months and I can offload my grow houses. Another two and I can go legit, maybe open a pizzeria or something.” “Yesss! That’s the spirit, ’cause I don’t want to visit my BFF in the clapper, see,” Makenzie said mockingly in a roaring-twenties bootlegger voice. “Mak, you’re a dumbass. You know you ain’t right. Boo, I think you need to call social services for your back pay, ’cause your seven thirty check is late!” Charli joked, referring to a stipend given to the mentally unstable. “It’s all good, Charli. Since you’re my friend, can I borrow some of yours?” Makenzie rolled forward, laughing at her own joke so hard her head hurt and her eyes watered. After her late-night date with her best friend, Makenzie finished bathing and climbed in bed. She admired the sensual feel of her bedding, which, aside from her art supplies, was her single selfish indulgence. But after several hours spent tossing and turning, she ached from arousal deep inside and the pain kept her from enjoying the luxurious bedding. She was horny and lonely, a bad combination

Bound by Accident

23

on any given day. But the longing was worse tonight, and none of her toys helped the need burning through her veins lately. Makenzie couldn’t help but to think that after five years of abstinence, a toy couldn’t quell her needy pussy. Climbing out of bed and padding to the kitchen, she located a hidden cache of Girl Scout Cookies which went with her to the spare bedroom used as a studio. Burning with unexpressed desires, Makenzie decided to sketch the rest of the night away, hoping to leave her unmet needs behind.

24

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 3: Hi, My Name Is… Friday morning Makenzie woke to the sound of a distant rooster crowing, so faint she barely heard it and thought she dreamed it. Jumping up from the shabby-chic dining table, repurposed to serve as a work and craft table, she headed to the bathroom, knowing two things. First, she was dog tired, and second, she was late as heck. Peeking through the living-room wall cutouts to the kitchen, she saw the time, 8:30 a.m., flash in fluorescent green. The blinking numbers mocked her sleepless night. “Crap, I should be walking out of the door now!” Mak exclaimed, scurrying about the house, eschewing a shower in favor of a duck bath. No time for makeup, her afro only half picked out and covered with a hairnet in lieu of styling. Her clothes were slightly wrinkled, although she took her childhood lessons to heart and hit the seams up with the iron. Eight minutes later, she was in the driver’s side door, untoasted half-bagel in her mouth and keys in the ignition. The latemodel Saturn’s engine turned over sluggishly, and, with a small amount of coaxing, came to life with a sickly purr. “Love you, Bessie.” She petted the car’s dash and backed down the drive into the cul-de-sac. Clicking right, she hit the road headed for work. “Damn it! The one day I’m running late, and every light is red! If that jerk hadn’t cut me off, I would have been on schedule,” Mak ranted to herself, creeping up to the stoplight. After a few

Bound by Accident

25

harrowing minutes, she parked her car and half-jogged the length of the lot. Arriving at her Dilbert-esque cubicle, she noted the time and signed in while throwing a quick prayer heavenward as she sat down, grateful she was only three minutes late and her pay wouldn’t be docked. By the end of the day, Mak was exhausted and absolutely needed something stronger than wine tonight. The chill in the autumn air had her wishing she had the foresight to grab a jacket before leaving that morning. Since making a stop at the ABC store would take her only a few minutes out of the way, she decided to grab a small bottle of high-end vodka to jump-start her weekend. Purchase made, she ducked back in her car and headed for home. When she pulled through the lot, a black Hummer was attempting to turn and let her pass. Makenzie tooted her horn in a quick salute to thank the polite driver. As she left, Makenzie sang along with one her favorite songs, speakers loud as they could go, when a black blur streaked in front of the car to the left of her. The driver swerved right, lost control, and Tboned her car, punting her car across two lanes, and left her pinned inside her vehicle against an oak tree. She could feel her consciousness give way to the dark, and she let it, mind fluttering away. Drifting back into consciousness, Makenzie heard a deep voice, but the sounds were so muffled she couldn’t distinguish what was being said. Reluctantly opening her eyes, she looked up to see a hand in her face gesturing something, but she had no idea what. With a little concentration, she looked upward to the owner of the hand’s face. The first thing she noticed was almond-shaped eyes. A rich hazel, the hodgepodge of colors had her wishing for a set of Cray-Pas, oil-based crayons for student artists. Those were the only tool save paint that could blend the colors properly. Even with those, she may not get it right. But she was willing to risk it. Moving on, she catalogued more-than-pleasing features, a strong jaw with a hint of five-o’clock shadow, the same rich, almost inky black hair color as

26

Jennifer Willows

closely capped his head, a firm mouth with its sensual curve, the lower lip just a hair fuller than the upper one. Makenzie’s mouth dried as she realized how attractive she found this man. Her palms were moist, and her panties grew wet. He was candy for grown-up women, no girls need apply, and absolutely mouthwatering, “How many fingers am I holding up?” The urgent tone in his voice snapped her out of the trance the handsome stranger’s gaze held her in and she came back to reality. Her car was smashed, most likely totaled, from the look of the interior caging her. The doors crumpled under the dual pressure of car versus tree, and looking down, she saw her side of the floorboard barely contained her feet. Panting, she looked at the stranger, saying the first thing to come to mind. “Out…please, can you help me out of here?” He didn’t say anything, just looked at her very closely, as if he were able to see through her to the real Makenzie no one saw, not even herself. Strangely enough, Mak felt if she looked hard enough she could see the real him, too. After a moment, he merely leaned over, clasping her under the knees and around her back, and tugged her until she was freed from the mangled console. “Are you all right?” the man asked her, concern lending an ashen cast to the natural bronze of his skin. He tugged his coat around her shoulders and sat with her at the curb. “Yes, I think so. Thank you for helping me.” “It was nothing. The other driver is okay, just a little shaken. I already called 911. Someone should be here in just a minute to check you out.” “I’m just fine. I don’t need an ambulance or anything.” “You still need to be evaluated by a professional. Once the shock wears off you’re going to feel the pain.” With that statement, the ambulance pulled up, sirens blaring and lights flashing, followed by several police cars. The EMT came to her, asked a few questions, checked her vitals, and recommended a

Bound by Accident

27

ride to the hospital to check for a concussion or some other trauma. Since Mak’s head was splitting, she agreed. The officer, named A. Wilson Jones, while polite, was impersonal during her recount of the events, and since her retelling of the accident concurred with the witnesses, the officer advised the other person was at fault. She could go after the report was filed and insurance info swapped. Out of the corner of her eye, Mak saw the handsome stranger walk over in her direction. He held her purse in one hand, the small purple mini-folio containing all legal paperwork for the car in the other. As he sauntered over she finally got a good look at all of him. He was nearly a foot taller than her average five-foot-six, and structured on the muscular side. His hands and feet were huge, but he moved gracefully for a man. He was definitely not her type. Liar, her thoughts mocked, he is every woman’s type as long as they have a pulse and working brain. But he’s not for me. Shaking her head slightly, she handed the necessary papers to Officer Jones and leaned back slightly, catching an extra sniff of her exotic stranger’s cologne. Faint yet masculine, the scent smelled almost as good as he looked. “By the way, thank you again.” “No thanks needed. I was here and am glad I could assist. My name is Charyn Moreland, and you are?” He pronounced it “chairwren.” Sexy name, Mak thought. “I’m Makenzie Stafford-Johns, and I promise that I wasn’t raised in a barn.” Startled, Charyn smiled and gave a small laugh. “Well, I suppose under the circumstance you can’t be faulted. Really, I’m the one who should apologize. As the gentleman, manners dictate that I bear the burden of introduction.” “Well, how about we both say we’re even then? At least that way we can stop offering apologies, and we can talk about something else.” “That sounds just fine to me. Would you care to have a seat while we wait?”

28

Jennifer Willows

Frowning slightly, Mak asked the obvious question. “We?” “Why not? We are already here, right?” he replied, volleying the question back to her. “I just assumed…that you have to get home to someone. It’s almost seven on a Friday night.” No way was a man this attractive without the requisite showpiece girlfriend or wife, Makenzie thought. Even as she mentally crossed her fingers that she wasn’t poaching on another woman’s man. “There isn’t anyone. Is there someone you have to get home to, Makenzie Stafford-Johns?” There was extra emphasis placed on her last name. As if he wanted an explanation. She had no problem complying with the query. Even if this couldn’t go anywhere it was definitely the highlight of her day. “No. It’s my mom’s maiden name and my dad’s name hyphenated. Are you from here?” Mak asked, curious about the handsome stranger. “Not originally. I grew up in Connecticut, and I’ve lived here for the last six years or so. What about you?” Charyn responded to her inquiry. “I moved to Wilmington about five years ago, but I grew up just outside of Charlotte.” “I see.” His response let her know Charyn could hear her slight drawl, southern and thick. “I bet you do, I know I sound country as hell to you.” Mak laughed until her pounding head reminded her to stop. Charyn smiled at her laughter and replied, “No, the accent is very lovely. I hope you understand that.” Makenzie certainly did, as she could listen to him speak all day, but the officer returned and offered her a copy of the paperwork with the incident report on top. When she walked away from him to climb in the ambulance, Makenzie couldn’t help looking back for one more glance at the gorgeous man who’d aided her in her time of need. Surprisingly enough, their eyes met as he was watching her walk

Bound by Accident

29

away, too. The ride to the hospital was silent, leaving her too much time to think about the man that she just met in an ironic twist of fate. After a long wait for a triage nurse, Makenzie was escorted to a semiprivate room to wait for the attending physician to show up. The nurse took another set of vitals and ducked out after a quick runthrough of the functions on her bed and remote. The aloof doctor told her she would be okay to go home after overnight observation, as she was only slightly concussed. After changing into the infamous ass-out gown, she laid down as the long day finally caught up with her, and she fell into a dreamless sleep. She woke up on her own once, texted Charli a message with some of the details, and promptly turned the phone back off to resume resting. Makenzie didn’t feel like answering a million questions after the day she had. The only disturbance aside from her scorching dreams was when someone would tap her into consciousness, check pupil dilation, and re-dim the lighting before leaving. Later that night, Makenzie heard the door open, and imagined seeing a large shadow settle on the sofa pullout next to her bed. But she was too weary to take a second look before falling back asleep. She only came to when she could hear snippets of an argument, disturbing her dreams of hazel eyes watching her hungrily while she masturbated.

30

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 4: Poke Her For Charyn Moreland, his Friday morning started as a normal day. He strolled into his corner office at MoreLand and Co. promptly at 7 a.m. and ran numbers all morning before the first employee showed up at eight fifty. His breakfast consisted of coffee and a headache, which was unshakeable even with the bitter BC Powders he’d taken for it half an hour ago. When he finished with the preliminary numbers for the Yakima merger and land deal, his assistant, Marge, was walking to her desk while sipping a humongous coffee. The next time he looked up she was standing in the gaping entry of his propped-open door. She popped her head inside. “Hullo Charyn, want a bagel?” There was a vendor who came by from eight to ten in the lobby selling bagels and coffee from a cart. “Nah, Marge, I’m all right, thank you.” He didn’t have time, there never seemed to be enough. “Charyn, what time did you get here? Seven, as always? I think you need to get a life.” “That sounds about right.” God, he knew he needed to, but thus far he was unable to muster up interest in making the attempt. “I know it is. I need for you to get a nice woman for once. I don’t think you’ve had a date in ages. I’m damn near sixty and I get poked more than you do.” Marge smiled and shook her hand at him. “First off, I don’t get poked. Second, I’m going to tell Sal on you if you don’t stop haranguing me.” Sal was Marge’s master, and the couple had been married for well over twenty years.

Bound by Accident

31

“It’s all in love, boss. I don’t think that a handsome young man should be so engrossed in his work. It’s possible to have balance, you know.” He needed for his assistant to stop trying to be his mother. He had one, thank you very much, Charyn thought to himself, only keeping quiet as he knew she meant well. Plus, if he offended the minute tyrant, his office would fall apart while she sulked. “Thank you for your opinion, Marge, but I think I should get ready for the next meeting, if you can have the team meet me in Conference Room C in twenty minutes.” **** When Charyn left the office that evening, he reminded himself to ride past the liquor store for the poker game tonight. He should have asked Marge to get him a bottle, but with everything else he was doing today, it was little wonder that he forgot. When he left the store, a small Saturn was pulling out, and he let the car pass him. The driver greeted him with a quick toot of the horn to thank him for being polite. Not two minutes later, he saw a dog run across the street. A driver from the left-hand lane swerved right to avoid the animal. With horror, Charyn saw the small car he’d let pass him get T-boned and crumple into a tree. He screeched his Hummer to a stop on the side of the road just ahead of the wrecked cars and called 911. Guilt was the first emotion he felt. If the driver hadn’t passed him, he would have been in this accident. But his car was better equipped to handle the damage than the compact car before him. He reached the wreckage without realizing it and peered in, hoping the driver was at least alive, even if he or she was injured. The driver-side door was a crumpled mass of metal and shattered glass. The impact left it leaning drunkenly off the hinges. Pulling the tinfoil ball of door away was easier than it should have been.

32

Jennifer Willows

But when he took the first glance at the woman inside he felt his heart lurch. She was beautiful, her face serene and unconscious, but breathing. There was an array of scattered items in the car console. The glass bottles she’d gotten from the ABC were broken and liquor dripped from the ceiling. Recalling his basic first-aid training, he tried to see how injured she was before risking moving her from the rubble. Snapping his fingers to see if she would come to, he saw her flex a knee and hand, letting him know her spine was relatively uninjured. Her eyes fluttered, and he waited, holding his breath, to see if she would come to. She did, and he was drowning in her. Charyn felt the unwelcome erection come to life and he forced himself to speak. “How many fingers am I holding up?” It was the only thing he could think of. She didn’t answer him, just grew wide-eyed when she saw the mass of console battered around her. Her breaths became labored and he knew she was near panic. “Out…please, can you help me out of here?” were the first words he heard from the mystery lady. Her voice was amazing, sultry and southern. The combination made him think illogically of poured honey, thick and sweet. Even her skin was the color of the syrup. By the time the incident was over and Charyn watched the brown beauty leave him, he wished he could have spoken to her just a moment longer. Later that night Charyn couldn’t forget her, Makenzie. He had gone home after she was taken to the hospital, but thoughts of the bigeyed natural-haired beauty kept him adjusting his pants the rest of the evening. So much so that hours later, he was back on the road, leaving his house to see her. He’d never made the poker game he was headed for earlier. It seemed he was going to have to make apologies to his brother later for skipping it. But he had to know if he was imagining how beautiful she was.

Bound by Accident

33

Worse, he couldn’t seem to let go of the vision of her trapped in the car. He lied to the night nurse just so he could be there, telling the woman that Makenzie was his fiancé. Arriving at the hospital after midnight, he found her even more beautiful in sleep than he did at first sight. Settling on the small sofa at her bedside, Charyn found his back and legs complaining at their confinement already. But he was content to just half watch her in the dark as he worked on spreadsheets from a tablet PC for the coming Monday’s meeting. He was the comptroller at the real properties investment company that he and his brothers jointly owned. Charyn found himself up working off and on almost the whole night, taking a short nap somewhere in the neighborhood of five a.m. That was when all hell broke loose in the form of a tiny female, and there was no fury like hers. First, he heard the door open, and he sat upright from his formerly slouched posture. He could tell that the new arrival was angry in her attitude, and he had no clue as to why. The answer was revealed in a barrage of questions from her mouth the moment she laid eyes on him sitting on the small couch. “Who are you?” She had a sharp tongue, almost as if she were waiting for him to mess up and let her fillet him with it. “Charyn. Charyn Moreland.” “Hello Charyn, I’m Charli. What I’m trying to figure out right now is exactly who you are…From what I heard from the friendly night nurse, you’re the fiancé. The problem is, I’ve known Mak for almost twenty years, and she never mentioned you or your name.” “I understand, but I was the first person to respond to the accident. I just wanted to make sure she was fine and uninjured. Only a churl would do anything less.” “That’s all well and good, but why the lies about your relationship, especially to spend the night on a rock-hard hospital couch, for a stranger?” Charli hissed back. “I felt the need to be here, and that was the easiest way to accomplish that.”

34

Jennifer Willows

“Hmmm…I reserve the right to beat you like you stole something if you hurt her at all. Don’t fool yourself. I can and will do it.” Charli was working herself into an apparent froth when the monitor came to, beeping a warning about Mak’s elevating heart rate. The arguing pair fell silent, watching and listening for any signs of distress, when Makenzie sat up. Charyn watched Makenzie lean forward, motioning them to come closer. He walked the few needed steps to her bedside and leaned in, close enough to overwhelm her senses and a hair too far to be in kissing range. But she was leaning closer to him, and each breath he took drew his face nearer hers. He looked her in the eyes and was lost, watching her gaze back, and was even more fascinated as her pupils dilated. After Charyn saw her drink a deep breath filled with his scent, the monitor next to her began to beep faster. He saw her come to her senses. The look on her face spoke volumes, her face saying she was embarrassed. Their ogling broke, and he let her dart her eyes from his only to find Charli watching their locked eyes, too. The petite woman made an attempt to be quiet, only her eyes gave away her feelings about the situation. He saw the narrowed eyes throwing confused daggers at him from the other side of the bed. **** “Charli, stop it. Charyn was there from the jump. He pulled me from the car, shared his coat with me, and was even kind enough apparently to sit here. Am I right?” Mak said in a small whisper. She was exhausted and achy, a bad combination on a normal day. But after the night she’d had? The sore muscles were worse than a toothache, mixed with a migraine chaser from the whispered arguments fostered by Charli’s hotheadedness and Charyn’s devastating gorgeousness. “Yes, but…”

Bound by Accident

35

Mak made a cutoff motion with her hand across her throat. “No buts, boo. Don’t be rude. This man did more for me than any stranger would in this day and age…I just want for you to be polite. I can’t make you like him, but you will show him some respect. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.” With that statement, she laid back, resting her upper body again. “It’s all right, Makenzie. She just has your well-being at the forefront of her mind, and she has never met me before. Especially considering the situation,” Charyn interjected nonchalantly. “I think you should get some rest. I’ll stop back in a bit and check on you.” He walked away, and Makenzie watched him pull the door fully closed as he left her. “What was that all about, Mak? That man was devouring you with his eyes, like you were made of chocolate or somethin’. As far as I know, he is a complete stranger, but the way you looked at him says you want him, too. If you do, I’m all for it. I just don’t want you getting hurt by a stalker. The look in his eyes made me shiver.” Charli looked at her pointedly. “And you eyed him back. Your body language was telling him that he could get the business.” Laughing at her wit, Charli then asked, “Are you all right? The little information I got was you were in an accident off Seventeenth Street, and what room number they put you in. Had my mind bad, girlfriend, but if you can give me the verbal slap I just got, then you are good!” They both laughed at that. “For real, he is intense, isn’t he? But he doesn’t want me like that. He can’t. A man like him could have any one he wanted. And I’m…” Makenzie gestured, waving her hands around herself and her flaws. “Too curvy, average-looking, and not to mention black. I don’t think I’m the type of woman he goes for.” Charli’s face sobered as she spoke. “Mak, you’re beautiful, on the inside and outside. Your skin is flawless, your face is lovely, and most men love curves. You really need to look in the mirror. I don’t get it, ’cause I know your house has a mirror in it.”

36

Jennifer Willows

“I’m not saying that, Charli. I’m not Quasimodo or anything. But I am a realist. I am good-looking, a tight size twelve on a good day, but to a man like that? That’s another story…” “True, but the way he looked at you and those monitors beeped, along with the way your gaze went soft, tells me another story. Girl, your body wants him like fat kids want cake.” They were both giggling at that analogy. “Okay, you’re right, but what can I say? He’s gorgeous. That’s the whole point. If someone looks that good—they have to know it. Charyn can do better-looking women than me, and we all know that’s a fact.” Smiling, she said, “But he could most certainly get the business in. Shoot, bet money he makes vestal virgins want to give him some. Probably doesn’t even have to ask for it, either.” “That is the truth, sistah, preach it!” Laughing some more, Charli asked, “So when can I spring you from the slammer?” “The doctor mentioned after I ate he would check me out, and then I can go. So whenever the breakfast comes, I would assume.” “Okay, I’m going to grab a few things and get something cooking for you tonight. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, that good?” Not waiting for a response, she handed Mak her purse. The brown hobo Charyn brought her from the car after the accident. “Not bad, he got everything out of the car, even your lip gloss,” Charli said as she passed the bag over. “I know this stuff had to be everywhere, as the bag doesn’t even zip closed, right? Hmmm…That man just might be a keeper.” Grabbing her own Gucci bag, Charli left Mak with her thoughts and a lingering scent of gardenia blossoms. **** After Charyn left the room, he walked to the elevators, headed for the gift shop. By the time he made it to the hospital last night, the gift shop was closed, and he wanted to do something for the beautiful lady upstairs. If he pulled a string or two, he could get her some wonderful

Bound by Accident

37

swag, but in the end decided not to. She didn’t know him well, and she seemed the type to raise a brow at an expensive gift. Besides, the dominant in him wanted to gift her with something he chose for her. He wanted Makenzie to know he thought highly of her, and that he wanted to get to know the real her. But window-shopping the overpriced crap in the gift shop, he found that nothing was to his liking. Maybe he could have something delivered. Flowers? A gift basket? No, it seemed kind of cheesy and not thoughtful. The type of people who gave pre-made gift baskets really didn’t take the time to know the recipient well enough to give a gift that spoke to their knowledge of the person. Unless…he could have one made for her, filled with things that he knew she liked. Charyn had seen enough of her preferences in the car to work up something suitable. It could work. After making a few deliberations, he placed a call to his personal assistant, Marge, the eighth wonder of the world. Marge could take even rotten lemons and make the sweetest lemonade. “Hullo? Charyn is that you?” Marge asked, “What do you want on my day off? So help me if you want some filing done, you’re going to have to do it yourself.” “No, nothing like that. I met a lady last night and—” “You want me to get her a going-away gift? She must have been awful if—” “Marge, it’s not like that. She was in a car wreck, and I just happened to be there. I wanted to get her something nice to make her feel better.” “Awww…how altruistic of you. The girl must be beautiful.” “And that she is. I’m thinking gift basket. With a twist, maybe some Godiva, Barnes and Noble gift card, Starbucks dark roast coffee, Ciroc liquor, flowers, bath bubbles, Tylenol, and Beviamo Moscato. The rest is up to you.” Marge laughed. “Very detailed basket for someone you don’t know. Strange, that…”

38

Jennifer Willows

Charyn replied, “This is based on things she had in the car with her. She had a coffee cup from Starbucks in the cup holder. She carries an e-book reader in her purse. Most women like chocolate, flowers, and bubble baths. There was a bottle of Ciroc and Beviamo wine she just purchased in a brown paper bag, but both were broken during the accident. The Tylenol is for the headache she is guaranteed to have after the concussion. I need it delivered in an hour, two maximum. That answers your questions?” “You’re no fun, Charyn, but you are paying me overtime, and I want double at that. Can’t wait to meet her though. Ta-ta!” With that done, he disconnected the call and walked back to the hall of elevators. Now that he had a game plan, Charyn headed back for her room. As he made his way back, he thought how he could make it work. How does one insinuate themselves in another’s life? The answer came to him in an instant, keep him on her mind. By making sure he kept her mind where he wanted, after a while she would find it second nature to have him by her side. He would send her something every day, cards or flowers, and as time went by she wouldn’t be able to forget him. Would grow to expect him. He would come by her job with lunch, whatever it took. He didn’t think there was a man in her life. If there was, Charli would have happily mentioned it during their conversation. Even if there was, unless the mystery man put a ring on her hand, she was his. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Stopping in front of the door, steeling himself to enter, he heard snippets of laughter. “But what can I say, he’s gorgeous.” Charyn heard Makenzie’s dulcet tones even in the hallway. She thought he was handsome! That was half the battle. Paying closer attention, he heard more. “…can do better-looking women than me and we all know that’s a fact.” She thought she wasn’t attractive enough for him? As he eavesdropped further, he only found even more questions brought to light. Does she date outside her race? Was he not her type? What does she do? He knew she wasn’t married from their short talk earlier, and

Bound by Accident

39

that she was twenty-eight from the papers in the dash. Would she think a man of thirty-four was too old for her? Taking a moment to decide whether to knock and enter or walk away and come back was decided when he heard Charli tell her she was leaving. Walking down the hall a bit, he got to the elevators and turned back. That way it would seem like he just arrived back if either of them left the room. Halfway back, he encountered Charli and spoke a brief hello as he kept heading back to Makenzie. Tapping twice on the door, he heard her give permission. When he entered the room, he could smell Mak, the same warm fresh scent wafting off her as last night. Minus the earlier tang of fear, she smelled like lemon and honey. Totally without artifice and pretense, the aroma was homey, clean, and more than a little erotic. It made him want to lean in and drink her down his throat while he sipped at the well of her sex. He shifted his hips to change the bite of his arousal from bent sideways to down his leg, hoping the relaxed fit of his pants covered his half-hard cock. Closing the door behind him, he walked closer to the bed, looking her in the eye. Charyn watched as the direct look he gave Makenzie made her nipples hard, and they were ill covered by the well-worn, overwashed cotton gown. He’d even noted her embarrassment as she reddened when she looked down and saw her shameful state. A poor attempt to hide the instinctive motion to cover herself by lowering her eyes and grabbing the remote control also revealed itself in the fidgeting motions she made. Breath exiting her chest in pants, her neck and cheeks heated further to a faint burgundy blush. He saw her every movement, cataloging them. Charyn knew that as her gaze skittered to the TV it was a futile ploy to avoid him, and her face said everything her lips wouldn’t. His eyes followed hers to the small screen in the corner. Nova was on, and apparently the mating rituals of big cats were on the menu. He laughed mentally as he watched her flip through stations to give the shaking hands something to do, to

40

Jennifer Willows

focus on aside from the white elephant in the room. The undeniable attraction and desire they felt on sight. But he was aware that there was no other place to look. He made sure of it. “Why did you come back?” Makenzie asked, brows drawn together pensively. “I think you know why, Makenzie.” He heard her laugh slightly and wondered why. “What’s so funny?” He let his expression tell her that he would find out what she meant by hook or crook. “Nothing. I was just thinking about something Charli mentioned to me earlier.” Makenzie gazed away, and he knew she was hoping the lie would hold water with him. Normally it would. He didn’t know her from Adam. But something told him that it was much more than she admitted to, and he would believe the same instincts that drew him to her. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.” He cocked a brow. “Don’t think you beat around the bush, mister.” “Oh, I don’t think that’s a problem. I don’t beat around bushes, I beat in them.” She laughed again, and the sounds made him chuckle too. Charyn loved the sight before him, her laughter and her showing him her submissive needs with her body language. He was struck with the sudden urge to drape her in the flimsiest silk and torture her into squirming against his sheets. After soft touches and caresses, he would spank her to orgasm while she sweated the fabric translucent. He would have thought the image was real if not for the beeping of the varied monitors around her. His shaft was now almost at full mast, the zipper grinding into his cock, biting him. He had to taste her mouth, just to tide him over until he took the rest of her. Slowly, Charyn lowered himself onto the nearest recliner, sitting upright at Mak’s side. Their bodies spoke for them, broadcasting desires each only dreamed of. He wanted to get his hands on her. She

Bound by Accident

41

sat tall and taut, a drawstring holding her in a tight line, shoulders drawn to her ears. “Stop.” The word, though pitched low, was forceful and immediately had her questioning. “What do you mean?” Spoken softly, her reply showed him she knew. Knew, that is, what he meant when the one word command was spoken. “You’re tensing up. I can’t see your neck as it’s hidden behind shoulders and ears.” He lightened the tenor of his words with a tug of lips, a half-smile. “Let me help you with that.” Her brief silence was taken for consent. He stood and said, “Scoot forward and sit up.” Lowering the rail at his side, he watched her move further toward the end of the bed. Charyn watched as Makenzie moved instinctively at his request. Although calling it a command would have been more apropos. By the time she could have thought to question him, he was already behind her. One long leg was curled under him, the other bent at the knee to rest his foot on the floor. He slid his hands, one crooking around her waist, and listened to her breath stutter. The other crossed under her arm, hooking upward to put his hand on her shoulder. His forearm brushed her breasts on its journey up, and he heard her hiss. Charyn felt her grit her teeth, her jaw tucked in his arm, vainly attempting to keep the sound at bay. But she knew he heard, as his arms gripped her tighter. The fingers at her shoulder rubbed firm circles until the muscles there melted. Moving slowly, the fingers skimmed to her neck. They tilted her head over, rubbing tiny ripples over the delicate skin from her ear down. Makenzie swayed forward, and he allowed it to a point. Once her chin dropped, his fingers worked more magic, stroking just above the neck of the hospital issue gown. He stroked there twice, tugging the tie loose. Charyn’s arms pulled her closer, and she bit her lip to keep quiet. He switched arms, lingering on the brush of arm over chest. Her nipples begged for more caresses, the stiff peaks

42

Jennifer Willows

pouting for him. Once he arranged her to his liking, Charyn wasted no time in pleasantries. The hand he initially caressed her shoulder with moved in figure eights, starting from earlobe then ending at the joining of her shoulder and nape. He grew impatient as he felt her arousal heighten, and Makenzie’s head dropped back to rest by his heart. She attempted to flex her back, but Charyn kept the hands caging her taut, not allowing movement. Frustrated, he listened to her moan, the sound low and fleeting. Charyn finished rubbing out the tense shoulder gently. Stirring upward, he moved her forward then lay her back down as he stood beside the bed. Mak’s eyes, pitch dark and angry, spoke volumes. “It’s not the right time, not here,” Charyn said. “Then why start it,” Mak replied, tone biting. “I had to touch you, in some way. Right now.” “Well, you got what you wanted, so you can go. I need a shower.” “Let me tell you this. It was far from what I want with you. When I get what I want, you’ll be the first to know. I promise before I get it you will have begged for it, too. Be back.” Charyn sauntered away, once again closing the door behind him. He just needed a moment, a breath not scented with her skin. So he could get his angry cock under control. She felt so good, more than good, under his hands. He opted to refresh her melted bedside pitcher with ice, and gain the few minutes he needed to get himself together. **** Makenzie felt as if her skin was too tight and every cell in her body was tuned to him. So erotic, watching him watch her, the hairs on her arm rising, goose bumps rushing her arm. Seeing all of his hunger and desires for her, the potent need he focused in her direction as he left her. Makenzie scrambled out of bed and turned on the shower. Once she got the water running nice and warm, she climbed in, letting the

Bound by Accident

43

bite of scalding water work magic. Lathering a cloth, she washed and reminisced of his hands on her. By the end of her short ablutions, she was panting, again her body crying out to come. She parted her lower lips with her fingers, thinking of Charyn’s hands on her, around her, holding her. She said his name, grunted, as she captured her clit, rolling it. Her rock-hard nipples begged for some of the same, and her spare hand was ready, pinching and pulling the turgid tips. The joint assault was too much to handle, and she screamed, sagging against the wall. Feeling refreshed, Makenzie dried off, and she padded back to the bed wearing a towel. Looking up, she screeched to a stop. There in the corner was Charyn. From his face, he heard everything. His name, my coming, all of it. Face flaming, Mak dodged back to the bathroom. She donned another pathetically patterned hospital gown, splashed her cheeks to cool them, and walked out again. He was still in the corner, silent. The obnoxious man just stared at her, his eyes dark and glazed. His voice was husky, words gravel over her ears. “Come here.” Mak did as he bid her, the few steps a chasm thick with passion. “You should have waited for me. I could have made it better for you.” With that statement, he clasped her upper arms, pulling her forward as he leaned in, sealing her lips with his. The first touch of mouths declared war. She wanted control at first, wanted to force the next gasp of breath from his lips. Wanted even more to taste the air he breathed. Breathless, Makenzie broke first. She crooked her foot, twining his calf. Her pelvis snuck forward in the cradle of his hips, sandwiching his erection. Charyn responded swiftly, taking the dominion she rescinded. He fit his lips over hers, tongues tasting again. He stroked his hips against her, and the denim-clad cock barely scraped her clit. She moaned, but the sound was aborted by the tongue Charyn used to swallow it. His grunt matched hers, the sounds eaten in the onslaught.

44

Jennifer Willows

Tearing his mouth away from the vacuum seal of hers, he spoke a hoarse whisper against her ear, “I am going to make you come. Just remember two things. It will be quick, and no screaming.” Mak laughed, the sound dry and rusty. “I don’t think that’s a problem.” “You’ll see. That honey voice of yours would make screaming musical.” At that, he fitted his mouth to hers, pulling her up flush to him. Turning Makenzie’s back to the wall, Charyn cushioned her spine with hands and arms as he ground his cock against her. He wound circles around and around, her legs locking around him. The pressure in Makenzie wound tighter with each pass over her clit. She bit his lip, licking and panting, taking his mouth again. She arched her back, begging for more. He supplied it by grabbing a buttock in each hand and splitting them wide open in his grip. Then he changed the rhythm, the staccato thrusts spearing her headlong toward her peak. Her mouth gaped open as he drank her stuttered breaths and pleas. She closed her eyes, begging him to finish her. He did, releasing a buttock, fisting her hair. He arched her head back, eating her screams with his open lips, grinding maddening circles against her. The dam broke, taking her away faster than ever before. She wanted to look away, but there was nothing worth seeing more than him, the only unmovable object in her sphere. Even as she consciously made the effort to pay attention somewhere else, he was there. Scalding her with desires she didn’t know grown women had. The desire to have back-scratching sex, the kind where both parties were hurt just a bit by the violence of it. The need to be taken with fury as she earned whatever he desired giving her. She spent many moments aware of him in the aftermath of her pleasure. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and the quiet seemed normal. Natural, the way the woods grow silent when a hunter passes by. She was the hunted, and outclassed in the sensual arts. He would devour her, and a large part of Makenzie came to herself as he gentled her,

Bound by Accident

45

soothing her back down from the peak. He rubbed her face, her back, as she descended. She was clinging to him like ivy as he gave her small kisses over her face and carried her back to the bed. Lying down, she wished the moment never ended. She didn’t want to let him go, not yet. Looking at the man who gave her more than her own hands ever did, Makenzie shuddered. There was a knock on the door heralding the doctor, and she watched him walk away, silent and stiff, with his jacket held closely in front. Makenzie smiled and thought at least she wasn’t the only one on fire from their encounter. **** Charyn knew he needed to get somewhere away so he could rub it out without her scent clinging to him. But he wasn’t one for flashing innocent people his manhood, and would rather not go to jail for it. He looked at her face, and the blue balls he suffered were worth it. She was just so beautiful when she came. When he saw her, control became almost impossible, leaving him just a hair shy of coming in his jeans. Her face flushed, eyes wide open, this incredibly helpless look in her gaze. Almost like she was sorry she had to come at all and end their hasty liaison. A knock at the door cut the tension building between them, allowing the passion to dissipate in the atmosphere. “Come in.” Mak’s voice sounded shaken. The doctor came in, and Charyn took the distraction the woman presented and exited the room with a tersely spoken, “I’ll be back.” He sauntered out, gait hobbled slightly by his hard cock, hidden by his carefully positioned jacket. Leaving the hospital by the front entrance, he walked to his SUV, a large special-edition Hummer with darker-than-legal tinted windows. He climbed in, removing his cock from his jeans in seconds. Stroking himself, he rubbed his frustration

46

Jennifer Willows

out. Visions of Makenzie spurred him on, the taste of her lips, and the hoarse cries spilling from her lips carrying him to a quick peak. The release, bittersweet and intense, came with her name falling from his lips. Cock spurting, the waiting napkin caught his sperm. The seeds of his progeny, and Charyn decided at the next opportunity he would shoot them straight to her womb. Grunting, he cleaned his member with a few swipes of another coarse napkin. Composing himself, Charyn opened the door, and headed back where he came from. The best part was the fact she wanted him, too, and now he knew just how much. Now that he saw how sweetly she responded to his caresses, he would not let her go. She was so sensitive and sweet in her responses to him. His cock started to get away from him again, so he trained his thoughts elsewhere for the walk back. When Charyn strolled in the room, he heard Makenzie and Dr. Wellington talk a few minutes about her care after she left the hospital. She was advised against the usual things, stress, heavy lifting, heavy drinking, and no work for at least eight days, as that was the minimum for an FMLA claim. Once she ate the breakfast that followed the doctor in, and the nurse checked on her, she could go home. He saw she was grateful to be able to see her own bed soon, as she quickly ate the simple breakfast. The meal seemed too small to him, watching her opt for only cereal and applesauce and take the time to drink an extra glass of water. Shortly after she finished her Spartan meal, there was a knock at the door. Bidding whoever stood at the door entry, it opened, revealing Charli was back. “Hey boo, I dodged back to bring you some clean gear,” Charli said, motioning to the Juicy Couture bag at her side. “Brought your hair pick, some makeup, T-shirt, jeans, and your twenty-year-old flipflops.” Laughing, Makenzie replied, “You just saved my life. I just knew I was gonna have to put them dirty clothes from last night on my clean body. Good news is I can go home in about an hour.”

Bound by Accident

47

“Excellent, that will give me time to hit the store up. I’ll be back to pick you up in a few then.” Charyn interjected, “I can do that, since I am already here.” “Okayyy.” Charli looked at a loss. Charyn saw her glance at Makenzie to make the final choice, but both of them appeared confused. “That will be just fine with me. I’m cooking curry chicken tonight, so don’t be too tardy, will you?” As Charli walked to the door backwardly, another knock at the door warned of another person signaling for entry. Turning about, she pulled the door open and backed up as a basket wearing a small sprite of a person stumbled in the doorway. The basket was gigantic, filled beyond the brim with a hodgepodge of things, covering the face, chest, and half of the hips of the deliverer. “Hullo, is this the room for a Ms. Stafford-Johns? Where on earth should I sit this monstrosity? Thing weighs more than my Mini. Blast it!” **** Makenzie saw the deliverer was a woman who appeared to be in her fifties, well preserved, with bright, clear skin faintly mapped with wrinkles at the eyes, a short-cropped Mohawk of hair, auburn all over but frosted blond on the tips by the front. She was fashionable, her wiry figure sheathed in brown leggings and knee-length olive sweaterdress. The diminutive lady prattled, a little busy bee freeing herself from the excessively sized basket. The basket was heavy, if the thump it made was any indication. “By gad, I knew I was gonna throw my back out with that absurdly large thing. Knew I was in for it when my trunk wouldn’t close on it. I ended up using a bunch of bungee cords to keep it in the car for the ride.” Mak, desperate to stop the insane prattling, spoke up. “I’m Makenzie. Thank you for delivering my basket. If you’ll just give me a moment, I can give you a tip.”

48

Jennifer Willows

“Nice to meet you, too. I’m Marge. A tip won’t be necessary, as my boss footed the entire bill. Tip included.” Eyes twinkling, she looked away. “Isn’t that right, Charyn?” The look on said man’s face spoke volumes, disgust the most prominent. “I know my directions were much simpler than that monstrosity. I know I didn’t tell you to add all that stuff to that basket either.” “But, Charyn, really? You shouldn’t have given me leave to make it on my day off with vague directions then. Better luck next time. By the by, you owe me double time for three hours. Now the random weekend call makes sense. I can see why you’re here.” With that, the jabber-jawed pint-sized tyrant skipped out, grin on her face showing she knew chaos was left in her wake. “Ummm…Charyn, two questions. Who was that? And what is that?” Mak asked, barely able to hold back her laughter. Charli, in similar shape, barely holding her composure while leaning against the wall, said, “I think that was my cue to leave. But sistah knows one thing. It won’t fit in my car.” Visibly pulling herself together, she took her leave, keys in hand. “That was Marge. She’s my personal assistant. Before you ask, yes, she is always like that. To the second, I asked her to get a basket with a few things, definitely not that ridiculous thing,” Charyn replied. “Either way, its mine and I want it. I can’t wait to get it home and look at my stuff.” Mak grinned at Charyn, her voice a high-pitched sing-song. Grabbing the bag Charli brought, she walked into the bathroom to change her clothes. She pulled on her favorite tee, a soft red shirt with white print that proclaimed, “It’s not you, it’s me!” faded relaxed-fit jeans, and leather flip-flops. Picking out her fro, she made a puff ponytail, debating if she should put on any makeup. Thinking of the man she had in the room was the deciding point, no matter how achy she felt. A few strokes of mineral powder, a quick swipe of gold eye

Bound by Accident

49

shadow, and a touch of gloss were the extent of what she felt like doing. That done she was ready to go, but nerves had her leaning at the door breathless for a few moments more. A knock at the door had her leaping back, then laughing at herself. She heard Charyn speak a muffled, “Are you ready?” The only response she could give was, “Yes, I’m coming now.” Although self-preservation begged her to run, she wanted to say yes. The only ending to their story was heartbreak. Mine, to be exact. What on earth was she going to do with a man like him?

50

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 5: Let’s Talk About Sex The ride home was thankfully uneventful, silence broken only by a recorded voice emitted by the GPS system. As they pulled in front of her home, Makenzie tried to climb out, but a hand stopped her. The clasp of his hand was firm and warm on her bicep, swallowing the whole of it. She looked over, meeting his gaze for the first time since he touched her that morning. Her breathing quickened audibly, but his did, too. She felt no shame at the words unspoken between them, or even how easily he had to see through her. She cleared her throat, asking, “Would you be so kind as to carry my basket inside?” His response was only a quirked brow which seemed to say, “You thought I wasn’t?” Mak smiled back and turned to open her door. The hand gripping her didn’t let go, and exasperated, Mak looked over. “Charyn, what is it?” He still didn’t speak, just shook his head twice. He climbed out of the large SUV, walking to her door, and opened it, letting her out. He stuck his hand out, taking possession of her keys. Charyn opened the duplex door from the hall entry and tugged her inside. When the door was closed, sealing them away from the world, he pounced. Grasping a hand in each of his, he looked her in the eye, then at her lips. “May I?” She was still nodding her head, giving consent, when he kissed her. Her hunger for him had to be evident, as when he stepped back, Makenzie felt herself sway left. Charyn’s eyes grew darker, and with a scorching look, he swept her up. He placed her on the couch, making sure to seat her in the crook of the sectional.

Bound by Accident

51

Standing at his full height, Charyn told Mak, “I’m going to get the basket and your bag.” He walked swiftly, leaving the door ajar as he walked out. The moment he left, Charli swept in, speaking before she got in the door good. “Is he staying for dinner? Now you know your girl, I had to see what was in that basket. I was taking a chance though…” “On what, Charli?” “That your natural curiosity would get the better of you, and you would be in that parade float of a basket before you came home. Duhhh.” “You’s an asshole, girl.” Speaking of the basket, it walked in the door, Charyn closing the door with a foot. “Here’s your bag. And this…” Makenzie watched him look askance at the basket cradled in his big hands. He sat the basket in the living room, right in the middle of the large pistachio-colored shag rug. “Cool!” Both Mak and Charli dived in, pulling apart the large gold ribbon holding the cellophane around the basket. About three feet tall, the thing was really a woven picnic basket, but the items inside forced the lid open. On top rested a clutch of wild blooms wrapped in twine. Under those were myriad items, no rhythm or rhyme to them. Godiva chocolates next to a hip-hop album, a tablet computer lay next to a bag of French roast coffee. Digging deeper in the basket, there was more. Williams-Sonoma muffins, Ibuprofen, and a Barnes and Noble gift card were the next unearthed. Scones, Ciroc, and… “Beviamo!” Both ladies on their knees on the floor squealed simultaneously. Charli got up. “Don’t touch anything else. Imma grab us some glasses for our libations.” Laughing, Makenzie said nothing, sitting on her hands but peeking one-eyed in the basket.

52

Jennifer Willows

“I told you not to do that. Tsk tsk tsk.” Charli stood over the basket and handed out glasses as she poured them, first to Makenzie, then Charyn, last for herself. “You didn’t say nuffin bout looking though.” Mak looked up and saw Charyn smile, apparently getting his kicks watching her get giddy over the selections in the basket. He asked, “Makenzie? Where’s your bathroom?” Looking up at him, she said, “Down the hall, to the left.” For Makenzie and Charli, everything in the basket was fun, until one of them pulled a sack out. No larger than a pillowcase, it was bright red and drawn closed at one end with a rope drawstring. Makenzie shook the bag and, stumped, untied the end. The first item from the sack was super-soft cord, extra long, black, and heavy enough to be rope. Next, the bag dropped several jeweled clamps with rubber coating the blunt teeth. Finally, Mak just upended the bag in the floor, watching the remaining items fall out. “Supersized dildo, massage lotion, lube, and I don’t know what the hell these are!” Gesturing to the last item, Charli replied, “Ben Wa balls, honey.” “I don’t want to know how you knew that.” “I hope you won’t find out how I know. That’s just a bit personal, TMI. I just have one question. You gonna give him what these items are asking for Mak?” “I don’t know what you mean.” “Yes, you do. I think that you and he need to have a nice talk about BDSM, Mak. Marge knew what went in that basket. She made it. She doesn’t know you to think you would like this, so it has to be about him.” “But I’m not into that.” “But you’re into him, and he’s like that. I’m going to get this naan bread going. I’ll knock when dinner is ready.” “Why is it when stuff goes buck wild, you’re out?” “’Cause you grown, girl. That’s why.” Grabbing a muffin, Charli left, closing the front-entry door behind her.

Bound by Accident

53

**** While in the bathroom, Charyn took a moment to reflect on a few things. Mainly that he may just owe Marge more than double-time. She had been talking about her and Sal going on their 24th anniversary cruise to Europe. Next, thinking about the mischievous, childlike side he saw to Mak, he could see her laughing when he finally played with her, twined within his ropes. Charyn rounded the corner just in time to hear the end of the conversation about the last items found in the basket. He wouldn’t have had their discussion about the lifestyle begin like this, but better this way than not at all or after they were in too deep. He stepped out and saw Makenzie was still seated in the floor, nipple and clit clamps in her hand. Looking at him in the eyes, Mak asked, “Hmm, you think these are my size?” He noticed her humor at the situation, eyes glinting with suppressed mirth as she held the clamps up to her ears. “Never thought to use ’em like that.” He smiled, taken aback at her cavalier attitude. “So this is what you want from me?” The words were raspy, and he heard the brush of air scraping her throat as she inhaled. “No, this is what we need from one another, Mak.” “I’ve never—” “I know that. I can taste you, though. The need burns in you that strongly. Come here.” Standing on weak legs, she crossed the room, meeting him halfway. “You follow my commands so effortlessly, gracefully. I barely have to speak the words.” Breath shallow, she leaned into his embrace. He walked her to the sofa, removing his shoes. Seating himself along the chaise end of the

54

Jennifer Willows

microfiber, he tugged her into the gap between his legs, back to chest. He inhaled into her hair and began speaking, tone hypnotic. “The major tenets of bondage play are as follows. I expect you to obey me during play. You control how far we go with the use of your safe word. Last, play is first and foremost safe, sane, and consensual only. Aftercare is just as important as the playtime we share. I know you have questions, and I will try to answer them all. Bear in mind some things can only be shown, not taught.” “Am I to call you Massa?” He could see Makenzie barely kept a straight face when she asked. “Depends on if you want a spanking or not.” “How does it work? Am I your slave all the time?” “No, just sometimes when we are going to make love, or barring that, anyplace with a bed or surface I can take you on.” “That sounds reasonable. Do others know that you…” “Like to dominate women to get my rocks off, you mean? No. Just Marge and a few others in the scene do.” Laughing into his chest, she queried, “Will you hurt me?” “I may spank you, but I would never permanently harm you.” She began breathing faster, heart racing. “What does safe, sane, consensual exactly mean? I get what the words mean, but how do they relate to BDSM?” “It means safe play. Some things, while erotic, if you are not properly trained, could seriously harm someone. Sane, since insanity would create a hazardous environment, and again one of the parties could come to harm. Consensual, since anything less is rape.” “What if I am scared and don’t want to play anymore? Would you stop then?” “As I said before, you as the submissive will control all play. The safe word lets you feel free to beg me to stop, without having me actually do so. The word would be something you wouldn’t say during sex, but can easily remember.” “Would you leave me if I used it?”

Bound by Accident

55

“No, it just means the scene would stop. We would talk about what feelings you had that scared you into stopping. Depending on what the reasoning is, it will adjust the play we have later. It may be that you’re out of your comfort zone and need coaxing to take you there. Or that it’s a hard limit, meaning you don’t want anything to do with it under any circumstances.” “When would you want to start?” “We already did. As time goes by, I’ll introduce new things to you, until you get comfortable. What do you want as your safe word?” “Asparagus.” Charyn looked at her sideways and laughed, the sound deep and hearty. “I think that qualifies.” Smiling at Charyn, Mak stretched and grimaced, as sore muscles protested. “Looks like someone needs another massage.” “Not if you value your life. The last one was good, but you left me in a bad way. Certainly don’t wanna repeat.” Slightly offended, Charyn clasped the soft skin of her lower arm, massaging her fingers first. Then he rubbed circles with his thumbs up toward the elbow, and when he finished one limb, moved to the other. The soft woman in his arms went limp, and he knew she was drifting off into la-la land. Once he reached her feet, Charyn turned her sideways, cradled in his lap. The position reminded him of sitting with Santa for the requisite Christmas pictures as a child. He kept rubbing away at the tired muscles, tight and knotted. When his hands caressed the arch of her foot with work-calloused finger pads, she moaned. Long and low, the sound made him revisit the spot, wanting to hear it again. He wondered if he could make her come without spearing her on his cock in his impatience. There wasn’t enough time for that. Charli would be back soon, and he wanted to take her slowly. Not to mention she must be sore and tired from the accident already.

56

Jennifer Willows

Soon, he told himself, knowing he would take her like she had never been taken before while also giving parts of his heart that had never taken or touched another woman before her. But there was at least time for this. Leaning over her, he touched her face, cupping her chin. She blinked at him owlishly, now fully aware, and he swooped in. Crushing her lips, he sucked the lower lip she presented him with. Tongues dueling, he mated her mouth, possessing each breath she took. Hands roaming, he cupped her soft breasts, thumbs rocking the nipples. The tender flesh erect under his hand put precious stones to shame in both hardness and beauty. She keened into his mouth, seeking him. He responded with a lowered hand resting on top of her pelvis, inches shy of where she wept for him. Shifting her down his lap, Charyn rocked his leg. The wellplaced knee crumbled her defenses. The pressure of the hand at her lower belly forced something more from her. “Tell me you need to come. Say, ‘sir, I need to come.’” Makenzie’s response was both immediate and held urgency. “Please, sir, I need to come.” “As you wish.” Charyn worked in earnest, rocking his knee under her mound. “That’s it, take it. Take what I want to give you.” “Oh yes, sir.” “Mmmm…” Satisfied with her surrender, he captured more of her, overwhelming her mouth with the strength of his passion. Charyn saw the peak claim her, taking her away and back, panting his name with each breath. “That’s a good girl.” He soothed her with skimming hands and kisses, anywhere within reach. “What about you?” How sweet of her to ask. But it would take much more of her than fifteen minutes before he was remotely satisfied.

Bound by Accident

57

“I knew when we started there wouldn’t be time for me. That can come later.” Makenzie just looked up at the ceiling, perplexed, still shuddering from the peak he gifted her with. Moments later, the front door opened with quiet snick, warm breeze circling the more-than-stuffy room. Her passion-glazed eyes met his, and held his gaze. “So I see ya’ll have had that talk I recommended.” Charli stood at the door, grinning.

58

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 6: Color Me Mad Walking to Charli’s half of the duplex took only a moment. Dinner was a lively affair, laughter dished up with the large bowls of curry chicken stewed with varied vegetables for hours and spooned over jasmine rice. Served with garlic naan bread, the meal was delicious. Each of the three was unbuttoning pants by the end, when there was no justice done to the dessert. While tasty, none of them had any room left to hold even one more mouthful. Charli brought over after-dinner drinks, snifters of Drambuie and mugs of coffee. She kindly packed Tupperware with the dessert, a strawberry shortcake napoleon, since none of them was able to eat it. Hugs and handshakes went around, and then Mak opened the door, headed for her place. For a late-autumn Saturday evening, it was nice out. Autumn breezes flowed gently as Mak crossed the hall to her unit, deciding she would love to sketch the nighttime landscape. Charyn followed her to her door. Walking inside, she bent over, picking up scattered items from the basket. He followed, taking gifts and placing them on the counter to clear the floor. When they were done, Mak looked through her lashes, watching him in motion. Whatever she had to do was worth it. This man was like no other she ever encountered. He was hers, by hook or by crook. “When will I see you again?” she asked, deciding to be forthright. “Tonight, if you’ll let me, I will stay with you to make sure that you are fine. Tomorrow, I’ll go home for a bit to get some work done, and come back. I want to take you out.” “I’m okay with that. I don’t have a spare bed, though.”

Bound by Accident

59

“Unless you have a twin bed, we’re sharing it.” Mak felt her jaw drop, mouth open, stunned and stupid. “But we just—” “I know that as well as, if not better, than you. Tonight we are going to sleep, not make love.” “Or fuck?” Shaking his head, Charyn replied, “Even when I fuck you, we’ll be making love. It’ll just be dirty, sweaty, hard, and fast.” She knew he watched her response to his words, her quickening breath, lip biting, and heated cheeks. “You always have me at a disadvantage, it seems.” “Not true, I was the perv with a hard-on at the scene of an accident. It’s your fault, Makenzie. This is just karma.” “No way, I don’t believe it. You were too cool when I saw you.” “Yes, I was. When I ran to your car, you had lost consciousness. Your lips were so soft looking I needed to kiss them, and had to clench my fists to keep from touching you. I lost control of my cock when you opened your eyes and looked at me. I knew I was staring you down, but I couldn’t stop.” “I thought it was just me.” “No, it wasn’t.” “Is there anything you need? As you’re staying the night, will you need any clothes? I have a pair of shorts and T-shirt that may fit you.” “I’d rather not wear another man’s castoffs, if you don’t mind.” Lips tilted upward, Mak admonished Charyn, saying, “I take offense to that statement. I’m not a man.” “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.” “I knew this moustache made me look extramasculine.” Deadpan, Charyn replied, “Actually it’s doesn’t. It was the beard that gave you away.” Rubbing her chin, she laughed. “Can’t put nuffin past you, huh?” “Better and worse have tried.” Laughing harder, she wiped her eyes, rubbing each with a palm.

60

Jennifer Willows

“I’m going outside for a bit. If you would like your own nightclothes and a change for tomorrow, you can go home and come back.” Walking behind her, Charyn hugged her close. “Actually,” he whispered in her ear as he leaned down to her,” I sleep in my birthday suit.” “Not in my bed, you won’t. Getting nasty man juices on my bed, hairy toes with crusty nails scraping up my nice sheets…Uh-uh, don’t make that face.” “I’ll have you know I don’t have nasty feet, and the only nasty juices in the bed will belong to you. All of mine are gonna be in here.” With that, he cupped the zipper of her jeans and toed his shoes and socks off. “See, they are manicured and everything.” Smiling at him, Mak looked down, shocked. Damn, even his feet are sexy, Makenzie thought, looking at the large male foot slightly back and to the side of hers. Clean, close-cut toenails framed a well-proportioned foot, sized to match the rest of him. “Thank you,” he replied to Mak’s offhand statement. “I said that out loud?” “Yes, you did.” Smacking herself in the forehead, she said, “Okay, now that I’ve embarrassed myself, how about you move over there?” Pushing him away, she moved back a few paces, but it only made the problem worse. She was so drawn to him it didn’t matter where he was. He could look at her from across a room and her knees were just as weak as they would be if he was next to her. She blinked her vision clear, drinking in the sight of him. Her senses were overwhelmed by him in every way, even down to his scent and his voice. She wanted another taste of him, her drug of choice, so tasty she licked her lips. He walked to her side, pushing her to the sliding door.

Bound by Accident

61

“You said you wanted to go outside.” Voice husky, he drew her toward the back door, and she saw dusk approaching. Mak’s hand itched, and she remembered. “Duh! Be back.” Quick stepping to the makeshift studio, she took a few things, some paper, Cray-Pas, pencils, and an eraser. Switching her clothes for a loose tunic and tights took just another minute. She just left the discarded clothes where they lay and dashed out. Looking through the sliding glass, she saw the object of her desires. Seated on one of the peacock-blue deck chairs, he apparently was busy with his phone, sending a text message. She sat down across from him, facing the west. The sketch went by quickly, and it felt as if she had just begun when she shaded the last corner of the page. When finished, she stood up, arching her back into a deep stretch. Charyn stood with her, taking up the Cray-Pas, erasers, pencils, and sketch pad. Mak was the first to break the silence. “If it’s all right with you, we can watch a movie.” “Are you going to finish the sketch you started?” “This part is done. I just like sketching the sunsets, but normally I don’t paint them.” “Can I see your sketches, paintings?” “Sure…everything’s just through here in the spare bedroom. That’s why I didn’t have an extra bed to offer you.” “Make no mistake, Makenzie. Even if you had a million beds, the only one I’m sleeping in will be with you.” Mouth dry, Mak lead Charyn through the hall to her “studio.” When she opened the door, she remembered the clothes she left on the floor. Panties included. Dodging in the door past Charyn’s large frame took finesse, but she did it. Sweeping the garments up in one stroke was harder, and she did that too. What she didn’t account for was him actually calling her on it.

62

Jennifer Willows

“What’s that, Mak, your clothes? Here, let me help you.” Smiling, he leaned forward, crowding her. She squeaked and jumped back, dropping the bundle she worked so hard for. He caught it, face smug. Taking the items, he looked at them, breaking a toothy smile. “I see somebody is free-balling in this room.” Charyn cocked a brow in her direction. Mak replied, “I am not!” She was huffing, embarrassed as hell. “Who said anything about you? But I already knew you didn’t have any on.” “How?” “The way you walked, and no panty lines. Best believe me, I looked.” Face heated, Makenzie sputtered, “You can kick rocks with Jesus sandals, Charyn.” She noted and appreciated that he gave her a moment to calm down. No talking, just hypnotic silence. Finally, Makenzie felt the heat leave her face and she relaxed. Her next words were meant to show him she was past the heat of anger, but still didn’t appreciate the way he goaded her in her own home. “Since we’re here, you may as well look.” **** When Makenzie took him in her studio, Charyn remembered the concentration on her face as he watched her work. At first she would sketch using the pencil in her right hand, occasionally tapping the paper with a fat white eraser in her left. As the time passed by, he unabashedly went from covert peeks to outright staring. He saw her hands moved almost independently, working opposite the other, though they had the same goal. At that moment he was gone, mind lost in her work, even losing track of time. Through the entire still-life sketch, Makenzie bobbed slightly or swayed, depending on what song she was hearing.

Bound by Accident

63

Enthralled with watching her hands dance over the paper, Charyn found he was impressed by the detail the half-finished work showed. The charcoal gray of the pencil drawing was complex and no detail was left out. He could distinguish the fading rays of sunlight. There was even a spiderweb in the tree across the yard in the picture. She was a really good artist, with an impeccable eye and the ability to make the most mundane of life appear on paper as the most exquisite works of art. He had seen many sunsets in his life, but never with the same view Makenzie had revealed in the sketch. Bringing himself to the here and now, Charyn saw as Makenzie pointed to the opposite wall, and he turned to get a better look. The spring-green wall was covered floor to ceiling with canvases of varying sizes. The smallest was in the very center of the wall, no bigger than a large floor tile. The largest was short, maybe only a foot tall, but fully spanned the length of the room. The paintings were of every subject matter. There were people, trees, abstract slashes through paint spatters, still-life subjects. Amazed at the depth the smallest one contained, he concentrated, staring. The painting, done in watercolor, was stunning. What he saw changed depending on his angle of approach. When he was straight on, he saw a window with curtains. But when he looked at it from the corner of his eye, he saw more. Swearing he was seeing things, he asked, “Is that a couple making love in this picture, Makenzie?” “Yep.” “I like it.” “Thanks, it’s my favorite, too.” “You are incredibly talented. If this is what you have here, then what you’ve sold must be amazing.” Eyes lowered, Mak said, “I haven’t sold anything.” “Why not? People would pay good money for this.” “I just haven’t, that’s all.” Face stern, she closed the subject.

64

Jennifer Willows

“Makenzie, we haven’t known each other very long, but what I’ve seen shows me you are not a coward. We can table it for now, but it will come back up.” “I’m not a coward.” Charyn knew that he’d made her angry again, as her heated response was an angry volley punted back at him. Mak crossed her arms and led him out of the room. Taking the worn clothes, she put them in the bathroom hamper. Before she left, Makenzie handed him the remote, tone brusque. “I’m going across the hall to see Charli. Be back.” From the look of it, he was in the doghouse. Charyn knew he better do something nice enough to keep her from kicking him out tonight. Otherwise he was going to be bunking down in the Hummer instead of Makenzie’s bed, and that was not in his plans this evening. If he had it his way, he wouldn’t be sleeping anywhere else on other nights, either.

Bound by Accident

65

Chapter 7: Break Up to Make Up Makenzie strutted across the hall, so angry her head was leading her body. When she knocked at the door, Charli pulled it open quickly, so fast that she half fell in the door. “What happened? Girl, did he hurt you? Imma mess that fool up!” Charli grabbed her keychain Mace and began to take off her earrings, discarding them on her countertop. She pulled Charli back, saying, “Whoa, hold your horses. It wasn’t like that.” “Then what was it like? You came through madder than rattlesnake spit, knocking like five-o.” After closing the door, they both sat down on the couch. Picking up the joint smoldering in the ashtray, Charli toked twice. Looking at Makenzie, she offered it. “You still on the wagon?” Taking the blunt, she told her, “Not tonight, I’m not.” By the time they finished the illegal cigarette, both were geeked, laughing at nothing. “So you gonna tell me what happened back there? You and the hunky Mr. December were doing good last time I saw. He was eyeing you something fierce. I saw you both outside. So I know he wants your business, boo.” “Yeah, and he told me basically that I was a coward.” “Stop the bus, for what?” Both ladies munched hard on some chips and salsa, and Mak told her what happened, starting from the beginning. She told her about the accident, how it happened from her perspective. The trip to the

66

Jennifer Willows

hospital, followed by kisses and her touching herself, the orgasms, everything. By the time the tale was finished, they had polished off a bottle of Madeira and smoked another joint. When she told her about their fight, Charli’s response shocked her. “He’s right, you know,” Charli said through a Cheshire Cat grin. “You aren’t supposed to say that. It’s against the girlfriend code or something.” “You are the furthest thing from a coward, but with the way you’ve been acting around him…I’ve never seen you run from a tough situation, Mak. You know this has been an issue for a hot minute. Your paintings are wonderful. If not, then why have I half wallpapered my house in Makenzie originals? As much as I love you, I wouldn’t have placed anything subpar in my sanctuary, boo. You were upset for no reason, girl. The man doesn’t give a damn where your drawers are at. He wants what’s in them.” “But I just don’t—” “Don’t what? Want him to know you are a closet slob? That you wear panties? You lucky he ain’t left, high ass.” Giggling, she continued, “Do you even know how he looks at you? That man stares at you so hard that he’s either crazy or half in love. Like you have the last breath he’s gonna take inside. I watched ya’ll outside earlier; you, lost as always in your sketching, took about an hour and a half before you even realized he was there. Once he put that phone down, he just saw you. Like he was trying to draw you, too, just in his mind, no paper needed.” “I didn’t realize, I just did what—” “You always do, I know. That man in there wants you. I saw what was in that basket, just like you did. Some of the items were specific as hell, a bottle of Ciroc, and Beviamo? That sounds to me like he replaced the ones that broke in the accident. The Godiva, I know you had a wrapper in the dashboard from when you had a PMS craving. The rest is the swag he talking about. Homeboy must have a great nine-to-five to get them high-ass muffins and tablet, though.”

Bound by Accident

67

“But what he wants from me is the question, Charli. We just met one day ago. Maybe he just wants some strange. For all I know, he’s got jungle fever.” Charli fell out the chair, laughing so hard tears rolled down her face. “Jungle fever, ’cause we’re in love!” Charli sang out. “Hell no, boo, black pussy stopped being strange ’bout ten years ago. Betta step to the plate with somethin’ more logical than that.” “Okay, you’re right. I’ll stop reaching. But you don’t get it.” “Well, then make me.” “He could destroy me. I’ve never in my life felt so connected to another person, like I knew him before I knew he existed. When I saw him, I didn’t see anything else. I was in a wrecked car, and I forgot everything when I saw his eyes. I felt…captured. Like he took me somewhere else, someplace just the two of us could go. I don’t want him to break my heart. If I’m feeling him so deeply now after one day, then what about later? The inevitable handful of days, weeks, or months together, if he gives us that long. What about the end? I would rather not look up and see him walk away, and end up broken.” “Boo, life doesn’t come with guarantees, not even tomorrow. For real, most people live happy half-lives never feeling that chemistry. I’ve never felt that. I have always longed to. Don’t throw it away. If you do, you will regret it. ’Cause even if the dream is better than reality, you would still think about it. That ‘what if?’ feeling is not good, and I’d rather take a chance and be miserable, than not and be safe.” Charli leaned over, opening her small side-table drawer. Pulling out a small pipe, she packed it with more herb and lit it, toking once. Handing it off, she said, “One more for the road?” “Nah, I’m good.” Offering hugs, Charli let Makenzie out, waiting to close the door until her friend was safely inside.

68

Jennifer Willows

Once inside, she heard the TV going. Peeking through the halfwall, she saw Charyn in her kitchen, wearing black gym shorts. He had swept, mopped, and washed the few dishes she had in the sink. “Hey.” Mak was floored. Charyn with clothes was sexy as all get out. Without them, he was perfect. His large, sculpted, tan body was at least six and a half feet tall and thickly roped with muscles. His chest, well developed, had a sparse dusting of hair. Trailing her eyes downwards, she noted his wide shoulders and chest tapered to a v. The shorts hung low on his hips, barely hanging on for dear life. “Welcome back, Mary Jane.” “Huh? You must have your women crossed.” Quirking a brow, he laughed. “I can smell, you know that right?” “Ohhhh…” “Yeah.” “Is it a deal breaker? ’Cause I have to admit, it’s my favorite dirty secret.” “Nope. I have been known to indulge every now and again myself.” Jaw hitting the floor, Mak was stunned. “But you seem so…I don’t know?” “Normal?” “I think you haven’t ever known what it is to be normal.” “You would be surprised at how many people smoke marijuana. At least one percent of people do every day, and over half of the population has tried it at one point or another.” Charyn continued, “My mom is a hippie. She smokes every day, even now. She never hid it from us, and if we wanted to try it, she would let us.” “Mmm…interesting, my mom is the opposite. But I like my men smart and sexy.” “So you think I’m sexy, huh?” “You know you are, why ask?” “Even men like compliments. But I do want to talk to you. Get to know you better.”

Bound by Accident

69

“Ask away.” “Let’s make it fun. Would you care to play two-handed spades? Winner of each book gets a question?” “You can play spades?” “Yes, Mak, even lil’ ol’ white me can play spades.” “I didn’t…” Thinking of what she implied took her aback. “Yeah I did. Sorry.” “It’s okay. I enjoy surprising you.” “I think it doesn’t take much from you. Shoot, I’m amazed you’re still here.” Charyn smiled. “You amaze me, too. I never thought to meet someone like we did, either.” “Tell the truth and shame the devil.” Grabbing a deck of cards, pen, and paper, Charyn pulled her to the coffee table. He laid out two large floor cushions for their seating comfort. The game began with a simple break down of house rules. After the first few hands, which Mak won, the tide turned. She was not surprised at his skill, as he seemed to do everything well. After a grueling game, Mak won by a single book. The questions were fun, keeping them both awake until the early hours of morning. Mak used her questions to gather information about his family. He was the middle of three brothers. Deven being the eldest and Marques the youngest, Charyn was the middle brother. She found out how he got his name, from his mother, Charlotte Yves Warren. “She took the first part from her first name, the middle from her middle name, the ending from her maiden last name. Doesn’t make sense to me, everyone else got normal names.” The conversation carried on late into the night, and Makenzie lost all sense of time until after two a.m. Enthralled by his voice, content with a good meal and the warmth of his arms, Mak drifted off. Her last waking memory was of Charyn watching her drift off, and she sensed movement as he carried her to bed.

70

Jennifer Willows

**** Early that Sunday morning, Makenzie awoke, needing the bathroom. She smiled when she stirred from the bed and caught sight of the man in it. He was nude, save the sheets his hips were tangled in. Curious, she cocked her head left and right, trying to see the rest of him. Mak really wished he would shift positions to allow the sheets, covering what she wanted to see, to give her even a small peek. Bladder complaining, she ducked into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, used the commode, and quickly washed her face. Walking from the bathroom, she padded over to the bed. Charyn had shifted, but only to hog the entire expanse. Even with the addition of his restless motions, the sheet still annoyingly concealed the bits she wanted to see most. However, morning sunlight lay across him in slashes from the blinds, and her artist inside itched to sketch him. Getting the few items needed for the impromptu sketch took longer than she wanted. Impatient, she propped herself on one the floor cushions and went to work. She drew him as he lay, lazily sprawled across the full surface of the queen, feet hanging off the bed. She finished quickly, the lines of his form already mapped in her mind. Standing and stretching, she decided to fix breakfast. Before she could set her sketches to the side, Charyn rolled to his side, smile sexy. The sketches and pencil fell, hitting the floor, sound muted by the plush bedside rug. Voice husky, he asked her, “Like what you see? I wondered if you were going to pull the sheet back. But since you won’t, I will.” He rolled upright and climbed, long-legged, out of bed. The sheet pooled at his feet. Mak’s eyes glazed over at the sight. His cock lay along his thighs, large as the rest of him. Thick as her wrist, the head was plum dark, shaft heavily veined. She bit her lip, worrying the flesh bruised.

Bound by Accident

71

“Yes, I do,” Makenzie responded to his earlier query, way late. “Good.” He walked to her and leaned in, tasting the bruised lower lip gently. His breath was clean, minty fresh. “How come you don’t have dragon breath?” Makenzie asked, eyes going squinty with suspicion. “I’ve been up for two hours.” “But you were in bed.” “Yeah, I got up, showered, and came back to bed with you. I have to watch out for those nasty man juices. They tend to collect after twelve hours or so.” Smirking at that, Makenzie agreed with him with a nonchalant shrug of shoulders. “Can I see?” Charyn asked, pointing to the fallen paper. “Sure—” He leaned over, heavy cock slapping his thigh, a meaty thump. The sound forced her to chuckle, “Do you have a permit for that thing?” “Yeah, it’s concealed.” She laughed harder, her sides burning. Makenzie saw Charyn as he looked down at the picture she just sketched of him in her bed. Even she knew this was her best sketch yet. The detail was so lifelike that even on paper the figure looked as if it would draw breath and roll over. “You always say I amaze you, but even with what I saw in your studio last night, this is superb. You even added the scar I got at ten riding my bike downhill.” He then asked her, “Can I have this?” “If you will pose for me again…yes.” “Will do.” “You hungry?” Breakfast was wonderful, as Charyn ended up doing all the work. Whipping eggs into froth, he constructed omelets, adding ham, tomatoes, onions, and peppers. The only thing he let Makenzie do was

72

Jennifer Willows

fry bacon, since she begged him to. She didn’t want him to burn his dick, and he agreed. He laughed with her, sharing a memory where he got splattered with bacon grease. “I was twenty-three, fresh out of college. At that age, you’re always hungry, and at the time I couldn’t boil water, despite my mother’s attempts to fashion me into a passable cook. But, after watching a cooking show, I decided to try it, seeing as I had the munchies and no snacks. I opted for something simple, bacon and eggs. When the pan started popping, I was so dazed I just looked at it, not getting why it was popping so hard. By the time I finished, I was greasy as hell. Mind you, now I know you don’t combine a wet pan with grease of any kind.” Charyn laughed at himself. Makenzie smiled at his tale as she pulled down plates and silverware. She used the square Asian-inspired dishware she had secreted away for special occasions, Thanksgiving and such. After pulling down glasses, she asked Charyn, “Is juice all right with you?” “Yeah, but I would really like a glass of the Kool-Aid,” Charyn responded as he flipped an omelet out of the pan. Laughing, she said, “One of these days, I won’t be surprised when you say something crazy. I was going to have the same, anyway.” “Why is that crazy? I grew to enjoy it immensely during school. If you make it right, you can wake the dead.” Charyn laughed again. “You’re right about that.” Setting the pitcher of cherry-lemonade out didn’t take very long, and Charyn was finished with the last omelet. He slid it on the plate with the others and carried it to the table. Makenzie sat down as he loaded the heavily laden plate onto the small dinette. “Are you cooking for a small country? Bet you used all my eggs and bacon.” Shaking a finger, she said, “This better be good, or you are in trouble, mister.” After saying grace, they both dug in. “You cooked all the bacon, if I’m not mistaken,” Charyn responded to her pre-prayer complaint.

Bound by Accident

73

“So? I still can blame you, cooking in your nasty suit. Plus, you’re too large of a man to be satisfied with a small portion of anything.” “That’s right, Makenzie. I tend to be greedy with my meals.” The look in his eyes was lustful and filled with need. “And why ever does my nudity have to be nasty? I think that’s where your mind is. Somewhere in the gutter, but I like it.” “You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” “I think you just did.” Scrunching her face up, Mak dug in. The first bite was heavenly. He could really cook. Her face must have told him how good the food was, since he said, “You like? Was it worth the loss of a few eggs?” Elbows planted on the table edge, she leaned toward him. Smirking, she retorted, “What you gonna do if it wasn’t?” He cocked a brow, and he leaned across the table, sucking both her lips between his. Running his tongue tip across the seam of her mouth, he coaxed her to open her mouth. She did and was rewarded with a hot lick up her upper palate. Shuddering in delight, she backed away. Her fresh panties were soaked already, and she really couldn’t handle an orgasm over the brunch.

74

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 8: Dinner for Perverts The beautiful Sunday morning was mild, and since it was her regular cleaning day, Mak grabbed a bucket. Filled with her favorite cleaning supplies, she sat it by the patio door. She needed a few hours to herself, so she sent him on his way, telling him to get some real clothes and do whatever work he needed to do tonight. “I can help, you know.” “I know you can, but you’ve already done too much. Let me do this much. I only clean once a week. Just lemme do the thang.” “If I go, you have to let me take you out tonight. Otherwise, I may think you’re using me for my sexy body.” “Oh, I guess you found out my nefarious plan.” “Mmm, I see. Come here, girl, so I can have my wicked way with you.” Leaning in, she kissed him, tasting the faintest hint of mint, followed with a lemon chaser. The kiss started innocently, but as their mouths worked together, their tasting grew heated. Charyn pulled back, his lips barely touching hers. “Let’s not get this started, unless you want me to lock you in the bedroom for the rest of the weekend.” Mak licked her lips, craving another taste, just not knowing how to ask for it. “All right, go on already.” The southern twang drew her words together like molasses. She watched him leave and already missed him as though he had been gone for days. Once she pulled herself from staring down the driveway, she hustled into gear. Setting her kitchen microwave timer, she pulled out

Bound by Accident

75

dinner for Charli tonight. She decided on a simple meal so she could set it and walk away. Roast and potatoes would be hearty enough for Charli, and she would have leftovers to eat for lunch tomorrow. Setting the Crock-Pot to low, she filled it one third of the way with hot water and dumped in some favored generic seasonings, leaving the meat to simmer. She vacuumed, dusted, and changed her sheets with perfect military corners. Last she moved to the en suite bathroom, performing a quick scrub-down of the tub and toilet, finishing with a sweep and mop over the floor. As she whisked the mop, Makenzie recalled Charyn cleaning last night. The flashback brought heat to her cheeks as she thought of him bare-chested and damp with sweat. What man, she thought, would sweep and mop without being asked? She wasn’t letting him going anywhere yet. Even if he was crazy, she liked his brand of it. Chores done, Makenzie moved to her personal grooming needs. She decided to wash and treat her hair first, and a hot bath would allow her to hit up the rusty spots with her razor. Pre-bath, she grabbed panties, sport bra, and a long sleep T-shirt proclaiming her America’s next top model. The tights she picked were boldly patterned, a zebra-inspired print in green and blue. The clothes were well worn but clean and most importantly sported no holes. Mak took her fresh clothes with her to the bath and turned on hot water after lathering her legs with shaving cream. This particular cream was her favorite, sold by a local sex-toy consultant. She could shave any body part with it and even use the same thick shaving foam as hair conditioner, if desired. Makenzie ran her bath with the new bath bubbles from her gift basket from Charyn. The soak was wonderful, scented well and the water as hot as she was able to tolerate it. She drifted off, the heat carrying her away, and in her mind’s eye, she saw him. Charyn. He was in front of her, sitting with spread thighs, wearing the shorts from last night. He was looking at her, gaze deep, and rubbing his thick cock, which hung at a lazy

76

Jennifer Willows

angle over the waistband. The motions were long and slow, his wrist moving evenly. When he reached the head, he rotated his hand and rolled it. The return back to the base was slower than before, and more maddening, in some way. Her skin, heated from her visions, made the bath feel cool, much like pool water in the summer. She touched herself, just a small caress over her clit. The gentle pass of fingers was nowhere near enough to satisfy her. But imagining his hands on her flesh kicked the solo session up a notch. No longer her hands cupping fleshy breasts, instead she felt his calloused strength. Not her fingers in her pussy, but his digits rippling inside her sex. Mak’s head lolled backwards as she felt the tension gather. She panted, the heat building, and she was unable to it hold back. His name on her lips, water rippling around her. She came tightly, the sensation locked in her belly. Makenzie descended the peak gladly, more than ready to leave the chilly embrace of the tub. She rinsed and climbed out, drying off. Pulling on her carefully chosen house wear, she towel dried and proceeded to moisturize her scalp with oil, at this time of year especially important because she wore a natural and her hair tended to be dry. Mak checked the Crock-Pot, and she walked off to finish her ’do. As she hit the hall, the doorbell rang. Walking over, she called out, “Who’s there?” “Only the lady that gave birth to you,” was her mom’s dry response from the other side of her door. Sharon Stafford was beautiful even well past fifty. Her body still carried little spare fat, and she enjoyed the maturity of her gray hair peppering the black in chunky highlights around her face. After the cancer, she kept her hair cropped close, spunky bangs in her face. Opening the door wide, her mom hugged her tight. “Why ain’t you called me, baby? I had to find out you were in an accident from Charli.”

Bound by Accident

77

“Sorry, mom, it wasn’t bad, I just had to stay for observation overnight. I had a slight concussion. A couple of bruises. That was it.” “That’s the point. I find out from someone else and then don’t hear from you, of all people. Then I’m definitely worried. At least if I had of heard from you, then I can be sure you’re alive and awake.” “You’re right, mom, I’m sorry. I should have called you. By the time I got home and settled in, I just forgot.” “Hmm. Forgot, huh? All right, but I don’t believe you. Something’s up. What it is, I don’t know. So what about your car?” “Bessie’s in car heaven now. Well…maybe car hell, ’cause she was bad sometimes. I’ll go pick up my rental tomorrow and then hopefully buy something new later in the week.” “All right then, you want me to come with you?” “No thanks, mom.” Her mom, while wonderful in every way domestic, was a terrible negotiator. Her last car-shopping episode was a debacle. Mom ended up paying more than the sticker price, and how she haggled backwards Mak didn’t want to know. Smiling to take the bite out of the phrase, she hugged her mom. The scent she was enveloped with brought back memories of her childhood. Ivory soap and Elizabeth Arden. Mak drew her mom inside the house and sat her at the kitchen table. She ended up pulling out a bag of chamomile tea and jar of honey after turning on her rarely used kettle. Making a pot of tea, she added liberal amounts of honey to hers, handing her mom the signature bear-shaped bottle. They commiserated over their brunch, enjoying the tea with tomato sandwiches and some cobbler her mother brought with her. Three hours and many hugs later, her mom headed out the door to go home. She now taught kindergarten and needed to get in bed at a decent hour. But when they opened the door, Charyn stood there, hand upright, fisted to knock. He smiled slowly, the curve of lips transforming into a grin. “Hey,” Mak stuttered out, looking at the man in front of her door.

78

Jennifer Willows

“Hay is for horses, Makenzie.” Makenzie saw Charyn was joking with her just a tad, most likely wanting to see her cheeks redden. “So what? People can have hay, too.” “Liar, I dare you to eat some hay.” She smiled back at his response. Their playful banter stopped when they heard a throat-clearing sound. When they both went silent, her mom spoke. “So this is the something, huh. I think someone was telling you to mind your manners, Makenzie.” Stepping forward, Charyn stuck his hand out, introducing himself. “Hello, I’m Charyn Moreland. It’s nice you meet you. And as cliché as it sounds, I see where your daughter got her beauty from.” “Nice to meet you as well, Charyn. I am Sharon Stafford, Makenzie’s mother.” She hugged him. “I heard that you were the brave man that helped my baby girl out. I hope she treats you right. And if she doesn’t, call me. I’ll get her. She’s stubborn but not too old to take a switch to.” Laughing at the picture that made, Mak reddened at the thought that most likely Charyn would happily wield the switch himself. Her mom hugged them both again, and walked to her car. Charyn left his shoes by the door, padding sexy bare toes to the kitchen. “Do I smell pot roast?” “Yep, it’s got a couple more hours, though. It should be done by five or so.” “You may as well call it leftovers.” “Why?” “You promised me dinner, remember? I’m going to take you to Raleigh for Thai and a movie. We leave in an hour.” “Dang, wish my mom hadn’t made me forget about that. I was excited to be in my comfy clothes and ready for a night in.” “You’ll be happy you came. Don’t push me. I might have to take a switch to you.”

Bound by Accident

79

Charyn reached for her, Makenzie barely dodging away. She spun off to the bedroom, already trying to decide what to wear. She left the tights, changing the shirt to a man’s button-down in black. She belted the waist, opting for a black ballerina-flat shoe. Her hair, still damp and in the towel, was combed carefully with lots of product and left to air-dry. She spent most of the time on her face, wanting to look as fantastic as she could. Using cream foundation, instead of her usual mineral powder, gave her skin a dewy look. Her eyes were done in green shadow and black liner, taking time to make sure the colors were vibrant. Mascara, a small bit of blush, and she was done. After putting everything away, she looked in the mirror. Mak asked herself endless questions, nervously. “Will he think I look nice? Even if he does, what if others don’t? What if I look like a hag next to him?” Taking a few deep breaths, she took the plunge, walking out to him. “You look amazing.” His statement was simple. His eyes spoke of something more complex. He touched her chin with one finger and thumb. Tilting it with faint pressure, he kissed her. She looked him in the eyes and the kiss deepened, then stopped abruptly. “Wha—” “Too tempting, I wanna keep you here.” “Okay? Well, let me grab my bag.” She took out a black jeweled clutch purse. It was wallet sized, only big enough to hold the barest of necessities, ID, debit card, lip gloss and cell phone. He escorted her outside, opening the Hummer door and helping her up in the seat. When she looked in the visor mirror, Charyn had eaten off half of her gloss with his hungry kisses. She reapplied her M.A.C gloss in the mirror as he deftly navigated the Hummer out of the city. The drive was easy, made quicker by laughter. They spent time deejaying the CD and MP3 players and poking fun at the other’s music choices. “Who listens to Milli Vanilli anyway?” Charyn asked.

80

Jennifer Willows

“I do.” “I think you did that to get back at me for playing William Han.” “You might be right.” When they arrived at Dojo, the Thai restaurant, Makenzie was in love. The place was Thai fusion, many cultures making their stamp on the decor and food. The seating, low cushions, and squat table were colorful and semi-private. She could see the other diners, but a bit of neck craning would be involved. Each table grouping was curtained off in gauzy fabrics draping tent-like from ceiling to floor. Every section was a different color. Their tent was gold, and all the items in the small dining space were slight variations of the same color, from the charger plates to the napkin holders. When the server came by, he handed them bamboo-backed menus and waited. Charyn requested the house special wine and a spicy peanut shrimp appetizer. “I like this place. The decor is great.” “There’s something special about this place. They have a show that I wanted you to see. It will help you know a little more about what I want to do to with you.” Face scrunched, Mak said, “What does that mean exactly?” “What I said. You have to see it to believe it.” The waiter came back, food in hand, and poured a sample of the wine. Charyn accepted it after tasting. Once the plates were set up, the server left them alone at the table. He moved to the cushion next to her, chopsticks in hand. To start, he fed her a bite of the crunchy prawns, followed with a sip of wine. Next, he served himself, and the pattern continued. When the last shrimp was eaten, Mak asked, “Why didn’t you place an order for an entree? Are we leaving to go to the movies?” “To answer your questions, no, we are not leaving now. I didn’t place an entree order due to the fact that the Dojo only makes one

Bound by Accident

81

entree a day. Each night it is different, but only one item is offered each evening.” “That’s pretty unusual.” Mak didn’t quite get what the ramifications of the meal were. “Remember when you asked me why this place is special? This restaurant serves a different meal every night. Each meal corresponds with a certain sexual act. Depending on what night it is, you can see anything. One night, a sixty-nine. The next, bondage. The one after that, anal. Next week? Who knows.” Jaw unhinged, Mak asked, “What is for dinner and entertainment tonight?” “Japanese rope tying. The meal is a Thai noodle dish.” “Japanese rope, huh?” “Yep.” Shocked but not appalled, Mak sat, childlike, peeking through curtains to see the other occupants. Were they normal everyday people like her neighbors? Were they like her? As her vision panned the room, a gong sounded. The small pockets of chatter silenced, as if a hand clamped down, shutting every mouth at once. Lights dimmed everywhere, and the faint trails of Nag Champa were visible as they drifted through the room. Their server came back, bowls ready. She barely saw him do his job. She knew he gave them the dishes based on the smell of spicy peanut sauce and noodles. As the last server left the room, a door opened, two robed figures walking to the center of the room. The taller of the two spoke. His voice was strong and carried over the expanse of the dining space. “I am Master Johng, and this is my slave, Miri.” Master Johng first told Miri to disrobe them both. Head bowed, she removed his covering first, folded it and placed it in a basket. Hers was next, treated the same as his. When she finished, she kneeled in child’s pose. Master Johng wore some clothing, a pair of lounging pants in black silk. Miri was nude, save a brief panty that

82

Jennifer Willows

was really two wide straps through the crotch and attached to a wide ribbon at her hips. The only other clothing Miri wore was a set of clamps at each nipple, connected with a small, delicate chain. Master Johng had her stand, afterwards removing a long length of rope from the basket. He started with her torso, tying the piece around her, knotting every so often. When her torso was finished, he moved upward. Banding her arms in knots forming a seam, he did the same to her legs. Mak was so enthralled with the show her food was cold before the first bite. Charyn pulled Makenzie into his lap and fed her a few bites of the dish. It was spicy, and the heat traveled south, warming her. Charyn spoke for the first time in long minutes, asking, “What do you think?” “I think it’s…interesting.” Why am I wet? “I’ll take that for now. Wait till you see the rest of it.” “Don’t really know how much more of that I can take.” Looking back at the scene, Mak saw Master Johng hog-tie Miri, using the harness he fashioned from rope earlier. While Charyn distracted her, Miri had a set of rope panties added. The knots there were near the mouth of her sex and just below the waist. The master pulled a series of chains from the nearby post and attached them to the harness at several different points. He walked back to the post, hoisting the main chain, pulling taut until she was in the air and was swinging level to his chest. Once positioned to his satisfaction, he tied the chain off at the post. Miri screamed as she started sailing in mid air, begging for mercy. Her master had none, slapping an exposed patch of hip. He tugged the rope panties from the back, and Miri went mad. She flailed in her bonds, tears rolling down her cheeks. After a few moments, she silenced, though fat tears crept down her face. A huge smile crossed her lips, and she flew in her swing, carried by the momentum she created with her orgasm. When the swing stilled long moments later, only then Mak realized she was grinding Charyn, her hip motions jerky. He moved

Bound by Accident

83

his hands to her waist, coaxing her stilted rocking into smooth circles. She leaned her head back into him. She wanted him, now. She had to have him. She placed her hand on his, moving it to her breast. The spicy food and show had her wet and left her skin tingling, too tight around her. Charyn spun her to face him, as the dim lighting faded to near black. The darkness allowed the night’s entertainment to leave, successfully cloaking their exit. He took her hands, imprisoning them behind her in one of his. The sounds of the other diners taking pleasure were pronounced, a symphony of sensation. She heard several people coming, the menagerie of grunts and moans musical. Charyn opened her shirt, popping open button after button. When he reached the belt, he pulled the shirt down her torso, leaving it half on. She felt him inhale the air around her exposed skin, the pulling of air affecting her more than a direct touch. In the darkly lit space, he caressed her breast, nuzzling it with a damp lip. When his lips passed over it, she moaned, complaining. Charyn took the pebbled skin in his mouth, drinking from her. Sucking her deep, the long pulls of his wet mouth nearly halfengulfed her breast. Makenzie heard herself groan when her unattended nipple tightened painfully. Switching to the neglected breast took less than a moment. The sensations were so intense, she was left wishing he had two mouths to give her, and felt so greedy for more. She cried out, an anonymous voice begging in the dark. “Please, more, please.” Next she pleaded, her hands trapped in the shirtsleeves, helpless. She knew Charyn heard her, felt his cock harden further to give her what she was begging for. He pulled his cock out and gave her one hand back, pulling it through the shirtsleeve. She used it wisely, stroking him for all she was worth. Uncrossing her legs, she wrapped them around him. Stroking him between their bodies, she let him go, working her crotch against his. The multicolored tights were less than

84

Jennifer Willows

tissue paper between them, and she could feel him, thick and long, scraping against her pussy with each hot pass the head gave her clit. Moments later, Mak felt everything in her give way. Her head tossed back, hair kissing her bared spine. Charyn clenched her hair tight in one fist, forcing her to arch farther back. His mouth ate her nipples, suckling gaping mouthfuls of the areola, a man seeking sexual nourishment at the breast of his lover. Her peak was miles long, and she screamed the whole journey. Charyn released her hair, hands pulling her forward. He ground her pussy harder, forcing a smaller peak on her. She whimpered, still sensitive from the last climax. Her wet heat soaked his cock, and as he came, a long grunt forced along with it. She opened her eyes, surprised to see the lights were full again, bright as when they arrived. Looking around, she saw curious eyes everywhere. In all directions couples peered through curtains and unashamedly watched them. She ducked her head, unsure what to say or think about the voyeurs and her place within them. When they left Dojo, Mak’s legs were still like jelly and barely worked enough so she could stand unaided. Charyn fastened her clothes just enough to get the necessities barely covered. Her shirt revealed a long strip of skin to mid chest, and he still carried her belt in one large hand, the other held her at his side. If the shirttails didn’t reach her midthigh without the banding of the belt, all the watchers would see the sex juices darkening the spandex fabric. Several couples winked at them as they made a quick exit. Still mortified, Mak was blushing red all over, and she could feel the heat washing over her skin in waves. But not all was from the voyeurs at the club embarrassing her. Some was because she liked, no, loved it. Charyn was silent the entire ride, the SUV eating up I-40. The silence, heavy, blanket-like, was rife with expectations. Mak still wore her shirt, but between the missing buttons and ejaculations, the item was no longer fit to wear. She carried Charyn’s seed on her breasts, soaking her bra thoroughly. The tights were little better, her and his ejaculations staining them.

Bound by Accident

85

They arrived back in town when Charyn spoke. “Makenzie, will you come home with me tonight?” Mak didn’t know what to say. She just didn’t want to be one of those bimbos he probably was used to, throwing him the drawers. On the other hand, he was glorious, and she wanted all of him, now. What do I do? She thought, confused and not knowing what would be best. Do I let him take me, just tonight, no expectations? Or do I hold out, maybe try to make this work? Go home to my lonely bed or see where the night would lead with him? “I can see the emotions written on your face. The confusion you’re feeling combined with desire. How about a compromise? I won’t make love to you tonight, but I will touch you.” Charyn just looked at her, no pressure in his gaze for her choose one way or the other. The words heated her. There was no way could she have a repeat of Dojo without raping him. Hell, she was there now. She was torn in two. Half wanted to run away, with a metaphorical tail between her legs, screaming. But the other half was pure vixen, pleading with her to take it, whatever he could give her. She could take him, now preferably. It wouldn’t take much. Makenzie was hungry, had never felt it so acutely. After a lifetime of water, she had her first taste of wine, and needed more. She could feel him still, and the ghostly sensations flashed her back to Dojo. “I don’t know if that’s possible. My body is screaming for you, and I don’t think I could be satisfied with anything less than your cock tonight,” she stated baldly, no artifice or ability to find any. “That’s what I’m talking about, Makenzie. I’ve never been so starved for anyone before, either. However, I can satisfy you with less than my cock tonight. I could use my hand, a toy, my tongue. Whatever I choose, you would come until you passed out.” The stark, naked words made her hot, and she let her body decide for her, closing her eyes. She nodded, and he made a U-turn headed for his house.

86

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 9: Story of Big Os “Are you sure, Makenzie?” Charyn asked. He didn’t clarify, but she knew what he was asking. “What if I said no?” Makenzie wanted to toy with him. She never had released her inner vixen, and Charyn was perfect to cut her teeth on. “If that were the case, you would be at home right now.” She saw Charyn meant it. “Then why ask me?” “I just wanted to be a gentleman as long as possible. You’re about to see a side of me that I keep hidden for good reason.” Makenzie shivered and didn’t open her mouth for the rest of the drive, which was longer than she expected. Most likely, with her mood even five more minutes was too much to wait. Charyn’s house was by a local beach. About half an hour from town proper, Ft. Fisher Beach was primarily used by local residents. It wasn’t a hotbed of activity but a place where runners could jog the sandy beach without tripping over tourists in summer. His house was fairly large, with a wide porch and huge windows, and fashioned from bricks. There was some grass, but it was sparse and patchy in the waning moonlight. He led her to the front door, opening it up, and hefted her in his arms, carrying her inside. Happy to be where she wanted to, the vixen inside her was silent and let him carry her through the living room, just outside the foyer door. The room was very masculine, though not black and chrome, as expected. The room was an eclectic mix of dark-chocolate leather and

Bound by Accident

87

masks. The masks represented numerous tribes, fully covering the fireplace wall. His flooring was marble through the space scattered with Persian rugs. Most of the rugs’ dominant color was a dark green, some a royal blue. As he settled her on his leather, brass-studded sofa, she looked over the sidewall, filled with books. Many were hardbacks, some even first-edition classics. Beside the large shelves was a small table, wire-framed glasses propped up on top. Everywhere she turned there was something else to see of interest. This was a lived-in home, filled with things one acquired on trips, some beautiful, others tourism tacky. A large conch shell and painted large rock were next to a snow globe on the mantel. Another shelf held a carved bone figure and its mate, a shot glass from Peru. He strode back as she made her assessment, holding glasses of unknown liquor on the rocks. He handed her one, and said, “Do you like the bat cave?” Mak laughed, awkwardness broken by his flippant statement. “Yes, it’s amazing. Masculine but homey, with an elegant twist.” “Thanks, I did it myself. The house was a shambles when I bought it, rotten wood, holes everywhere. It’s taken the last five years to get it to this point, and I still have a few projects to do.” “Like what?” “Well, the yard and the attic space are being converted into a loft.” “Wowser, can I see?” “Sure, lemme take you on the nickel tour.” Standing, he left their glasses of liquor on the table. He took her room by room through the house. He explained that the house was built with six bedrooms, but now had four. “When I first closed the sale, my ex-fiancée was going to be in charge of the renovations, but we split up before the ground broke on the first scheduled remodel. I really didn’t know what I wanted, but the house was unlivable at first, and I slept every night on the kitchen floor. It took three weeks of intense work, but I did the kitchen and

88

Jennifer Willows

the lower-level bath. I had to be able to eat, and a bathroom is a musthave. So it went from there, a bedroom next, then the living room. Then I worked on the patio space. I’ll show you that at the end. It turned out better than I planned.” Walking the layout of the house, Mak fell in love. The two downstairs bedrooms were really designed with kids in mind. One was a deep blue, fitted with a twin bed and dressers. The other was purple, kitted out the same as the first. Walking the curved staircase, she saw one small yellow bedroom, which was attached to the master bedroom. This one she could see as a nursery, the size and location making it perfect for that purpose. When she reached his room, she tried to imagine it beforehand, but his personality and decor didn’t give her enough clues. He opened the door. “This is it,” he said, waving her inside. The bedroom was immense, taking up at least one-third of the square footage on the second floor. It was set up similar to a studio apartment. At the front of the space were a small couch, a television, game systems, and movies. Further back, a bed almost spanned half the wall. The colors were very neutral. The walls, a rich glossy color, reminded her of peanut butter. The bed was draped in lush fabric, white-on-white shantung duvet. The pillows were large, super soft, all filled with goose down. They were kept in a similar palette, rich earthy tones. There were plants here and there, bamboo in chunky earthenware, a single bonsai tree on the bedside table. The wall at her right was covered in ivy, streaming from a window box spanning the floor. Behind the bed, the wall rose higher, a large bank of windows overtaking the whole of the wall. When she saw the beauty of the space, she was speechless. She could sleep in this room forever and never get bored of it. Everything about the space called to her, and she wanted nothing more than to roll in the bed with him. She could smell the earth in the pots, tasting it mixed with the scent of man. Her man.

Bound by Accident

89

She asked about the windows to change the track her mind traveled. “What about hurricane season? That window isn’t gonna make it.” He replied, “If you look closely, the windows are set on a chair rail. The panes were installed independently of each other. This wall has reinforced steel, through the drywall and between each pane. If I pull the steel shutters down outside, all the windows are covered.” “That’s pretty awesome. Had to cost a mint, though.” “Not really, the house was a steal at a bit over a hundred thousand, the repairs were mostly done by me, and so I only spent about the cost of the house to do most of it.” “Not bad at all. So, are we going to see the patio?” “Yes we are, come on.” Headed downstairs, she grabbed her purse and texted Charli, advising her of her whereabouts and dinner. Lord knows with the weekend she had her friend would freak out when she didn’t come back. Then she’d be loaded and hunting for bear. Holding the whiskey glasses, Charyn held one out to Mak. She accepted it, following behind him to the back door. When she walked outside, the expanse greeted her. Welcomed her. The backyard led to the surf, a small fence providing a sense of privacy. She was standing on the back deck, the wind and moon calling her itchy hand. Mak wished she could sketch everything around her in a panoramic view. Damn it. She had no supplies whatsoever and now was desperate to sketch the beach. Makenzie asked Charyn for a paper and pencil. When he returned, there was a small set of stubs, the triangular tool used to shade sketches. He handed her two pencils, both with perfect sharp ends. He handed her a large pad last, smiling at her. Mak grinned back, helpless to do anything else. She snatched up the pencil and paper, squatting low. When she sat fully, she was posed Indian-style, pad in her lap. She moved quickly, knowing she was at the whim of the elements. The moon, ripe and full, contained muchneeded light. But the clouds, dark and puffy, could render the natural

90

Jennifer Willows

light useless in a finger-snap. The picture formed in patches as she added more detail. When she touched up the shadow around the lone seagull, she finished, hand cramping. She picked up the whiskey glass, sipping the slightly watered-down liquor. It still had bite, and the mellow warmth hit her all at once. **** Charyn watched Makenzie sketching in the moonlight. She saw the simple beauty of the scene, and he wanted her. The sea and sky had no impact on him. Only she had that honor. He never thought to find a woman that fit every part of him. Pieces that he didn’t know existed, let alone missed. Before Makenzie he was willing to settle for a simple life with a woman that fit him on paper. After meeting her? There was no way that a cardboard cutout of perfection would suit, and nothing but the fire he felt with her would satisfy his urges. He could see his life working well around her, how well she fit him. No other person had ever had such a cataclysmic effect on him. Not even Tami’s betrayal affected him so strongly or came near to sullying his longing for Makenzie. For some reason, the little minx could leave him weak with laughter and wanting at the same time. No other eyes appeared to him like hers, so expressive and full of life. She set fire to his blood, beautiful and earthy, and he wanted her to accept she felt the same. It had taken him years to get to this point, and now that he found his complement, Charyn refused to let grass grow beneath his feet. He knew he had to take it slow, let her hold the reins a bit. He would let her set the pace, at first. Then he could reap the rewards when he finally wore her down. He watched her, eyes lidded low. The night darkened even as he saw her sit upright from her hunched pose, stretching her arms skyward. Picking up the glass, she downed the snifter in several deep sips. He saw her hand was cramped and took the glass from her. Glass on the patio table, he pulled one hand in both of his. Stroking her

Bound by Accident

91

palm with his fingers, he rubbed the mound at the base of her thumb. He heard her moan, the sound made from the tight muscles releasing. When he was done, she kissed him, mouth closed. The kiss was sweeter, more romantic than before. He loved the feel of her lips pressed to his, moist and flavored of whiskey. Taking her hand in his, they rose, gathering her sketch, supplies in hand. Inside, he took her to the kitchen, asking her if she was hungry. “Yes, for you.” He swallowed, and his nostrils flared wide from her unabashed request. Charyn watched the emotions playing in her unfocused gaze. He wanted her attention on him, always on him. First, the belt banding her waist was discarded. Then, he placed his hand on her cheek, stroking south. Fingers trailed her neck, carried sloping to the shoulder. When he reached the hem of her ruined shirt, he ripped the blouse upwards, scattering the few buttons left from the episode at Dojo’s. He saw her lick her lips, and he wanted to taste her mouth. Unable to find a reason to deny the urge, he lifted her onto the kitchen counter. His mouth planted against Makenzie’s, tongue dueling hers back. Her lips tasted of the sweet sweat a lover gives during sin, and he wanted more. He wanted to see her, all of her. The tights were next, tossed left. She was wearing panties, and he wanted to see her now and needed no delays in his satisfaction. He grabbed the garments offending him and pulled at each hip, ripping them off her body. The motion was swift and savage, and Mak shrieked, jumping a foot off the counter. Charyn soothed her with gentle hands, though his words were not, whispering, “Don’t wear these anymore. If I see them, they’ll go the way of this one.” Scraps in hand, he tied them around her wrists, just loose enough to slip a finger in-between the bonds. Wrists bound, he forced Mak to leave her needs in his hands. What good hands they were going to be to her. Charyn couldn’t wait to show her the many facets of pleasure.

92

Jennifer Willows

She had no idea how much sensation an arm or leg held untapped beneath the skin. His touches were feather light, and he left her longing for a firmer touch. She was lost in the sensations assaulting her. Charyn knew Makenzie forgot to care she was nude, spread before him, a feast of flesh. He finally gave her his mouth, hot, wet, sucking every part of her. He suckled the skin by her ribs to make her giggle, the underside of one breast, but not the other, to hear her groan. There was ample time given to lick the underside of her arm and the back of knees. When he leaned over her, she capitulated, begging him to finish it, and her. “Please, Charyn…I can’t take it.” **** Mak arched into the heat of his mouth, now teasing the crease of her thigh. He spread her legs, hands washing down her pussy, folding the lips back, exposing the oyster of her sex. He French-kissed her, tongue fucking her. She jerked, keening noises falling from her lips. He used his mouth, lips, tongue, teeth, even his after-hours’ shadow, all playing a role in the height of her arousal. She fought her ties, sodden panties trapping her wrists. Her legs spread wide, wishboned on the kitchen counter. He speared her with two overlarge fingers, plunging them deep. His hand cupped her breast, thumbing the nipple, bringing her higher. She whimpered under his mouth, hands roaming her. Her skin buzzed with sensations she was too untried to understand or speak of. Makenzie had never been in a state of rapture before. Until Charyn had gotten his hands on her, the only thing she knew was that the word rapture existed in the dictionary. He didn’t seem satisfied with her ready capitulation, and through the mop of hair in her face she saw him bite his lower lip as if thinking. If he kept it up, Mak was sure she was going to pass out

Bound by Accident

93

before the night was over. She certainly didn’t want to waste time unconscious for any of this experience. Charyn’s efforts doubled and suddenly he was everywhere all at once. His fingers plucked nipples and teased her wet pussy walls. She couldn’t hold back and squirmed over the countertop. Her ass squeaked as she slid over the polished granite. “Be still. Don’t make me give the first punishment already, Makenzie.” “I can’t help it!” Couldn’t he see that? Makenzie was beyond controlling her own actions. Charyn’s tongue split open her wet need and polished her clit. He lifted his head from her undulating hips. “Yes, you can. For telling me that, you’ve just earned your first punishment. No coming until I say so.” “Please. I’ve never…done this before.” She didn’t mind begging as long as she got what she wanted. His answering smile was smug and possessive with her confession. “Good. Now you can see how a real man finishes his meal.” His tongue moved back into position and changed the rhythm she danced to. He took pleasure in keeping her from orgasm. She could hear it in the satisfied slurps he made at her labia when he cleaned her weeping juices from the folds. She knew that she was nearly mad with frustration and holding back her peak. Somehow Charyn could sense the crucial moment where one correctly placed breath would send her off like a rocket. At that moment he would stop, watching her gyrate until she backed off the plateau. Once he returned to what he was doing, he always gave one flat pass of tongue to gather her nectar first. It reminded her of licking an ice-cream cone in summer, the way he collected the juices coating her pussy. When he licked her dry, he would make her wet all over again. One moment he would suck her clit and the next flick the beaded nub in random patterns that left her near tears with pent-up lust. This time, when he lifted his head Makenzie was shuddering but silent.

94

Jennifer Willows

“You’re a good girl.” Makenzie nodded. Yes she was. At this point she was whatever he wanted. However he wanted. “You want me to make you come?” She nodded so quickly, Makenzie thought she probably looked like a bobblehead. But she would give nearly anything to experience the explosion that he was building inside her. Makenzie was mistaken before and assumed she was a virtuoso, but he had true mastery of her. He put all her self-taught knowledge to shame. By the time he used one calloused index finger to stroke over the hood of her clit, she was on fire. She came without a sound, no air in her lungs to use her voice. The orgasm buckled her legs, seized her spine rigid. The only part of her willing to operate was her hands, bound extremities clutching at him greedily. She came down, gasping for oxygen, his fingers lodged in her pussy. That’s what made him a Master, and she began to understand what surrender meant. The giving away of control, the total exchange of her will for his. Every sensation was all for her complete satisfaction and ultimate pleasure at the hands of an artisan. **** Charyn’s cock was huge, larger than usual, due to his throbbing arousal. The whispered confession of her lack of experience made him even harder than he could remember in his life. No other man had ever taken care of her the way he would. Whoever Makenzie’s last lover was, it was his loss, and Charyn’s gain. A dumbass fool, wasting a hot sopping pussy like hers. Her sex was juicy, a tasty fruit he wanted to suck free of nectar for every meal. Breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, and frequent midnight snacks. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth from her pussy, the entire bottom half of his face drenched with her orgasms. Looking at the sight she made, he wanted more. More of her, right now.

Bound by Accident

95

He spent a moment in thought. What would he do next with the wanton siren in his arms? Decision made on what would follow in her education, he lifted her from the counter. The orgasm pooled beneath her, dripping from her still as he pulled her in his arms. A splash of her juices wet the shirt he still wore, wetting his belly, and a single droplet hit the floor between his bared feet. The tiny plop of juices was audible, and Makenzie lowered her burning-red face to his chest at the sound. There was no pussy wetter than hers on earth, and Charyn was impatient for the moment when his cock could sample the juices firsthand. He carried her upstairs, to his room, the place where he would ravage her again. He promised her that they wouldn’t have straight sex tonight. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t spread her open again, and in fact he planned to make her come all night. When they reached the door, she rubbed her head against his chest, weak motions showing her to be replete. The massive bed awaited, and he wanted to make her hair stand straight while they lay in it together. He laid her on top the cover, and she spoke, the words hoarse, “Maybe you should get a towel or something. This is some really nice bedding.” Charyn laughed. He was shocked she would come in huge puddles on the kitchen counter and then hesitate to sully the bed. “It’s not going to matter. You’re going to come so much tonight, the bedding is going to get soaked anyway. You may as well just enjoy it, and me.” Face aghast, Mak stuttered her retort back, “More? But I just dripped onto the floor of your kitchen. I don’t know what more you can do to me.” “You’re going to find out.” That shut her up, left her lying in his bed, panting for him. “Wait here.” Charyn walked away. He used the moment to start a bath running and went back to Makenzie, watching her attempt vainly to sit upright. It was noted

96

Jennifer Willows

with satisfaction that Mak’s quaking legs were unable to bear her weight. Charyn picked up the soft weight of pure woman and sat her in the steaming-hot, waiting water. The bath was huge, large enough to hold four people with comfort and space to spare. He saw her take note of her surroundings. First, he noticed her attention went to the mirror facing the tub. It was gold framed and showed the whole of the bath and occupant. Charyn saw her hair was snarled, and he had nothing to offer her save his own brush. He was a simple guy, and the longest he let his hair grow was a few inches. Not enough to waste on a comb. She was able to improvise, and he watched as she used her fingers in her hair, combing through the mess. After getting rid of most of the tangles, she plaited it back away from her face. Seeing a bottle of soft soap she sniffed it, and her eyes said she was curious about the smell. The scent was his, a preferred musk and sandalwood. She then poured a generous amount in the water, bubbles frothing upon contact. Waving her arms and legs, she splashed bubbles about. For Charyn, the sight of her, wet and cavorting in the water, made him ready to play with her. He stripped down, leaving his clothes on the floor. When he climbed in the tub behind her, Makenzie lurched forward, surprise written on her face. He smiled, and while fitting her to him, turned on the tub jets with the flick of a wrist. Adding a bit more hot water, he laid back, keeping her pinned against him. Long moments later, he took a soft sponge lathered liberally with the fragrant soap. He washed her, limb by limb. Arms and legs covered in suds, he washed her back, pushing her forward to reach the lowest part of her hips. Then he pulled her back to him, washing the front of her body, sweeping strokes over her belly then chest. Still soaked in soapy froth, he cradled her close, taking his fingers and moving them lower. Charyn spoke softly, the tone of his voice low, near a whisper in volume. The words were soothing, yet stirring. He told her how beautiful he found her. He told her how much watching her at the

Bound by Accident

97

peak excited him, how she moved him in every way possible. Makenzie rested her head on his chest, eyes closed, letting his touch show her how he felt. While she forgot about the mirror in front of her, Charyn hadn’t. He saw every reaction, live and in color. Her reflection spoke volumes, as he watched her gnaw at her lower lip, biting the already-chafed flesh. **** Makenzie was more than burning with the torture his hands had started with the sponge, and she wasn’t sure if her body was ready to go there again. His caresses were sending her mind and body separate places, the water doing an ill job of soothing the flames burning her. Her control was shot, and Makenzie was close to peaking harder than she could take. She let him soothe her, knowing if she kept barreling up the summit she would pass out. He allowed her to back off, his hands still for the moment. Once she was calm again, he brought her back, headed for the same apex he brought her to several times before. The hands on her never stilled, pleasuring her from the inside out. She was awash, flames burning, and she felt goose bumps rapidly cover every inch of her. The water was cooling quickly, and Charyn leaned back to run more, filling the tub within inches of flooding over. She let him position her, carefully scooting forward, his sparsely dusted chest cupping her back. Now they faced the mirror dead-on. The direct view provided by their reflections made the scene that of voyeurs, and not just that of participants. The best part of the scene in the glass was their faces. Watching her own rapture overtake her was splendid, her mouth slack and eyes wide. Charyn’s posture screamed dominant. Every exposed inch of skin was his playground, and nothing was left sacrosanct under his hands. She saw every part he stroked, and the double assault on her senses left her impatient to see herself peak. He moved her closer to the tub ledge, jets spurting.

98

Jennifer Willows

The liquid pressure engulfed the lips of her pussy, peeled wide open to expose her already sensitive clit. She cried out, jerking away, then back for more. His cock rested just beneath her cunt, and she knew the only barrier Charyn had from taking her right now was the strength of his word. She felt Charyn stroke his hard cock one-handed along the supine curves of her spine. The other he used to keep her spread and positioned in front the water jet. She kept attempting to run, slinging her hips from side to side, the force of the water too much to handle. Makenzie was losing her mind, one function at a time. The water stole her senses, Charyn’s hands stole her breath, and the last orgasm her reason. The current orgasm being forced on her was taking her sight, the world blurring out around her. When she came to, Charyn was there, the only tether holding her to earth. He sat up and resumed the bath, washing himself in quick scrubbing strokes. He finished, and Mak was still elsewhere, mind lost in the afterglow. She leaned halfin, half-out of the tub. She knew that she needed to sit upright, but the pleasure and whiskey did a number on her coordination, and her limp muscles refused to contract. When she raised her head from the tub edge, she saw him reflected behind her. All glorious male seated behind her on his knees. He towered over her, a conquering Poseidon. Makenzie wanted to touch him, yet she was a supplicant. She ogled him, cock still rock hard, the head an angry purple plum. The water god behind her stood, sluicing water, rivulets pooling back to where they came from. He climbed out first, tying a bath sheet at the hip. Then he tugged her out of the water, wrapping her in a robe matching the bath sheet. Both were soft white cotton banded in a green at the hem. The robe’s thick fibers siphoned the excess moisture from her, quickly drying her skin. He sauntered the short distance to the bed and sat her at the edge. To her right lay a crisp white large men’s dress shirt. She looked askance at the shirt, wondering what it was for.

Bound by Accident

99

Charyn must have noticed the confused look on her face and responded, “It’s for you to cover that luscious body. Otherwise I’m going to break my promise. We will sleep naked tonight, but until then, you can wear this.” He handed her the nearly fastened dress shirt. Mak pulled on the shirt over her head, torn between refusing him and the desire to please. She had to roll the cuffs several times, and the shirt swallowed her whole. But beneath the garment she was fully bare, and the sensation of being wholly covered yet exposed left her panting. **** Charyn, after seeing her wear his shirt, wished he left her naked. The shirt turned her from Makenzie to his possession after she donned it. Excited by the claim of possession the garment implied, he unbuttoned the front, taking his time with each of the fastenings. Makenzie had no idea how beautiful he found her. She was the color of fresh bread and just as warm. Never in his life did he think to meet someone like her. Hell, he didn’t even know people like her existed. “But I just put it on!” Makenzie cried out, laughter underlying the words. “Your master wishes it.” His response was sparse and honest. “I had to see you again.” “Charyn, I’m right here.” “Not almost naked.” “You have no sense.” “Not when it comes to you.” He pulled her closer to him, feet first. When she reached the edge, he released her ankles. Kneeling, he pulled her close and held her. She was holding him close, too, grasping him with greedy arms.

100

Jennifer Willows

He loved the fact she was so innocent. Not that she was a virgin, but how she seemed surprised each time he made her come. As if she had no idea how she ended up peaking, as if she didn’t expect it. Charyn was going to show her some of the finer points of submission tonight. First, they were starting with a spanking. It wouldn’t take much for her to earn additional punishment. His lady had sass in spades. Her mouth was a quick draw, but she would find out that he held all the cards. “Makenzie…” “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” “Are you ready to go to bed?” “With you, yes.” “I think you need to come first.” “Really, isn’t that a bit much? I already came at least three times today.” “Just three? Oh well, let me rectify that.” She licked her lips, and he could see she was contemplating what a fourth, fifth, or tenth orgasm at his hands would feel like. He could give her as many as she could stand. Maybe he could give her even more than that, forcing her to peak until she broke down and used her safe word. “Please, Charyn, I can’t.” “Are you using your safe word, Makenzie?” Charyn saw the small smile, and liked startling her. “No, I just…” “Just earned your first punishment.” “I didn’t do anything!” Yes she did. If she wanted to flap her lips, she needed to be prepared to have her ass spanked, Charyn thought. “You’re here and mine to do with as I wish.” With that statement, Charyn motioned her to stand. He sat down in her vacated spot at the corner of the bed, placing her face down on his lap. He methodically rolled her borrowed shirt above her waist, telling her, “You are going to receive twenty swats, and you must count out

Bound by Accident

101

each as they are received. Don’t think to come yet, either.” She better not. Charyn swore to himself if she came during her spanking he was going to tie her hand and foot for the rest of the night. Mute, she nodded. His hands roamed her soft ass, stroking the entire fleshy mound as if nothing were amiss. He rubbed her as if he wasn’t going to smack her round ass sore and purple. The shudders that vibrated over the shivering skin made him smile. He was willing to bet money she would come before he was done and earn more discipline at his hands. That was just fine by him. Something deep inside Charyn wanted to see her in bondage. Not just by rope and chain, but bound by his will. She was a natural to submission, a people pleaser. Makenzie needed someone to validate she was a good girl, and he was the only man for the job. **** Makenzie was impatiently waiting for the first strokes of her punishment. She didn’t know why she was so hard up for her chastisement, but this man could do anything to her and she would let him. Heck, she might even beg him for more of it. For some reason she was needy for his attention. Anything goes, as long as he was the one dishing it out. Charyn’s first strike was firm, just a hint of bite licking at her right cheek. “One.” As she counted out, he gave her a second and third. Each blow to her quivering ass heated her womb to clenching, and forced her clit to toil over his firm thighs. The successive blows all increased in strength, her taking each, her body arching into his hand, asking for more. By the eleventh, she begged him for the next, “Please…please.” “Please what, Makenzie?” “God, Charyn…More!”

102

Jennifer Willows

“You love this don’t you?” “Yes…” She did. No other experience in life came near to these sensations. Makenzie bowed her head. She was confused. She never enjoyed being spanked as a child, not that she knew anyone who did. Or that would admit it aloud. What was different now? The answer was simple, him. He made even a normal experience novel and fresh. Her toes were curled down and fists clenched trying to stave off the impending peak. When she reached the final stroke, a tear trailed her face and dripped to the covers below. She may have been victorious in the war against her own body, but she was so close she hurt. Makenzie was more than ready for all of him and wished he never made the foolhardy promise to her. She’d rather have him now and pay the piper later. Charyn turned her to face him, cradling her in his arms. He stood, going to the bathroom and back, small bottle in hand. The bottle contained warming oil, which he used liberally on her abused buttocks. “This oil will take some of the sting from your spanking. But you will still feel it when you sit down. That’s the point of punishment.” “Oh…” Makenzie was beyond speech. “Your skin takes beautifully to sensual pain.” “Uh…Thanks?” her voice croaked. “Although, I guess I will have to take your word for it.” “Trust me. You would make a stone man hard.” Now that she had her first real taste of sexual corruption, Makenzie thought she could become addicted. She was strung out on Charyn and hooked on numerous orgasms promoted by cunnilingus and deviant x-rated penalties. Makenzie wanted to curl up catlike in his lap so he could pet her until she fell asleep. That alone let her know that she was getting in way over her head. But she couldn’t for the life of her walk away. Not

Bound by Accident

103

from him, and not yet. She had walked away from much in life, and the thought of not feeling like this every night hurt even in theory. She just didn’t want to be that woman, had fought her whole life to not need someone else to complete her. Makenzie had longings, desires, and pent-up frustration just like any other woman. But that didn’t mean that she had to be a slave to them. Or debase herself for a man, even though that is what she truly wanted. Makenzie saw herself easily being his possession, toy, or shameless wanton, if it took that. There were worse ways to spend her time than residing in orgasmic bliss with him. Indeed. Makenzie still felt his hands rub her sore bottom, kneading her swollen flesh. She gratefully accepted the caresses. Ass sore, she felt limp and slightly satisfied, even though she didn’t come. It was strange how fulfilled she felt. As if she served a necessary purpose. The only thing she was lacking was the coup de grace. The finishing touch of release sparking through her veins to cherry-top the sexual sundae she’d glutted on tonight. **** The sight Makenzie presented him, with ass up, red, and glistening with oil, made his cock harder than when he spanked her. He wished he was inside her when he slapped her cheeks, so her juices wouldn’t have gone to waste and lubricated him to a quicksilver orgasm. At least he could eat her again, though, and retrieve some when she came. Mind settled, Charyn rolled her over, stuffing her with two greedy fingers, adding a third a moment later. He dove in, sucking, opting to eat her whole. Showing how much of a connoisseur he really was, he sucked her outer labia in his mouth. Next, he split the ripe fruit of her sex with a pointed tongue. When he reached her swollen cherry of a clit, his lips suctioned her, garbled sounds leaving her. The moans were guttural, primal in their tone, no

104

Jennifer Willows

words able to describe the need riding his lover. He opened his mouth wide, licking her opening and his own hand, salted with her juices. She begged him for more, so he took the hand stroking his cock and added one more digit to her weeping pussy. The fourth finger sent her so close to the peak, her body seized in an arch. He removed the finger, and Makenzie whimpered. He stroked the finger south, rubbing her perineum, and then headed for the rosebud below. He pressed his finger against her, using the contractions of her impending orgasm to expand her virgin anal passage. He sank to the first knuckle and, as she pleaded for more, sunk to the next. When he gave her the digit’s full length, she went mad, screaming his name. He watched her, eyes on hers as she came. His mouth sucked the cream from her, using his fingers to funnel her nectar into his waiting lips. Charyn saw Makenzie was flirting with unconsciousness. He hoped that the pleasure he lavished on her wrung her soul into a wet, shuddering heap. Her eyes were glazed, not to mention clouded and unfocused. He was deaf. The only sound he heard was his heartbeat, pounding through his chest. “Charyn.” Her weak voice carried a tremor. He was still crouched before her, face down in her pussy. He lifted his head away, lips curled. “Yes, Makenzie?” Her darting eyes and blushing skin cued Charyn to the fact that she was nervous and barely could voice what she wanted to herself, let alone aloud for him. Then Makenzie used one lank hand to motion him next to her with the universal “come here” sign. Charyn crawled up the sheets until he reached her lips. He cocked his ear by her mouth, waiting patiently. Charyn knew Makenzie wanted him, but he wanted her more. The feast of pure pleasure he’d served her broke through the hesitation and made her whisper, “Charyn, please, I need you.” His eyes heated, he asked, “What do you need?” “You. Your cock.” The words were faint, shallow as her breath.

Bound by Accident

105

“When I asked you to come here, I gave my word and will not break it. I will make sure you are fully pleased tonight. Ask after sunrise, and I’ll give you all of me. Every inch I have.” She moaned in response, a begging sound, and he stripped the towel. Makenzie was ogling his shaft, so close to her lips, and he found himself mesmerized by the pure lust in her eyes. He looked down at his cock, granite hard and hanging low on its own weight. Makenzie reached out and she grasped his hot pillar of flesh, teasing him. He hissed, jerking away as if burned. His voice, even to his ear husky and rumbling, vibrated against her auricle. “If you touch me, I’ll take you. You stole what little control I had over myself when you almost came during your spanking.” “You’re killing me here, Charyn…Please give me something.” Her complaint, valid as it may have been, was hard to speak of. He looked at her hotly. “Since you like to masturbate, I want to watch you.” Charyn was willing to bet dollars to doughnuts that she would have him coming in three seconds. She was just that sensual and open. **** She was embarrassed, never having had someone watch her so vulnerable and open. But this was Charyn, and she could deny him nothing. She closed her eyes, picturing the scene at Dojo. Only this time, in her mind’s eye, it would end differently. She touched her breasts first, lingering on the nipples, beading at her touch. Moving one hand south, she encountered her moist pussy. The lips parted with a shift of her hips, the beaded juices slurping against her fingers. Mak wanted to linger in sensual limbo, so she held back. She envisioned riding Charyn, his cock filling her, gouging her to the depths. She opened her eyes, staring at the object of her fantasies. He was watching her, his eyes blazing. His hands were busy, one tugging his balls, the other tugging at his cock. His strokes were

106

Jennifer Willows

violent, and she wanted that violence used against her. The imaginary Charyn switched his strokes within her to match the real version. She came, so fast she didn’t know it was happening until it was upon her. Her eyes never left his, and she saw the effect she had on him. She brought herself down with calming strokes over the outer lips of her sex. Charyn bit his lip, stroking harder. His nostrils flared, reminiscent of a bull seeing red. She couldn’t help but to stroke her beaded clit again. He smiled, nodding his head, the motion asking her to continue. She stroked feather light, so as not to offend the sensitive, angry pearl. Her breath choppy, she climbed higher, and could see her lover climbing, too. They breathed in concert, eyes watching, seeking. His cock jerked, and Mak came first. Then Charyn came, spilling, a close second. His cock spewed seed on her belly, up her chest, a burning brand. She let Charyn draw her close, intertwining their legs and arms. He rubbed against her, chest to breast, his seed lubricating the friction of skin on skin. Mak lay still, clinging to him, gasping for her next breath. Charyn’s semi-hard cock nudged her thigh, bare inches from her heat. He took her lips, the air leaving her in a heated gasp. Rasping the head of him forward, he rubbed her pussy, Makenzie writhing beneath him. She wailed, her body taking on a life on its own. Makenzie was crazed and knew she was unable to take any further teasing. The head of his cock stroked her secrets, dripping wet. He changed up the sensations to pull her from her plateau. Shunting his hips back, cock dragging along the bedding beneath, he shifted forward. The head of him butted her dark rosebud. He was pushing her even farther, mouth at her neck, wet suckling. She cried out, clenched the broad male shoulders above her, coming slowly. The peak lasted forever and a day.

Bound by Accident

107

Chapter 10: Almost Doesn’t Count Makenzie woke up slowly by minute degrees. When she fully woke, she was thirsty, mouth drier than the Mojave Desert. Looking to the left, she saw a glass of something wet. It was purple? Her lips cocked up, thinking of Charyn’s peculiar penchant for Kool-Aid. She reached out, but it was just a bit too far away to touch. She rolled over in a lazy motion, unsettling Charyn’s hand, still cupped around her breast. She took the room-temperature glass, chugging the contents, her thirst only partially sated. Makenzie went to the bathroom, using the commode. Only when she finished did she notice that she was clean, none of Charyn’s seed on her chest or belly. Her shirt had been re-fastened. She smiled and, walking to the sink to wash her hands, saw a fresh toothbrush still in the package. She brushed her teeth and washed her face clean, now fully waking. As she made her way to the bed, she remembered Charyn’s promise last night. Did she want him? The answer was a resounding yes. She had no hesitation to fuck him, but she knew it was more than that. It may start with them fucking, but would end with her making love with her heart and soul. That was the crux of her problem, but those facts weren’t enough to stop her from giving in to him. The real question lay in whether she could be bold enough when not in the heat of passion to request it. She lay down, looking at the clock. It was nearly eight a.m., and she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Lying down next to him, she saw he was awake. He just scrutinized

108

Jennifer Willows

her, no words needed to say what was on his mind. He was waiting, for her. Makenzie pressed her mouth to his nose, a small kiss. He grinned softly, his lips curled. Taking advantage, she touched the spot she kissed. He rolled them both over, sheets tangled around them, a cocoon. She raised her hips, rolling to meet his. He just looked at her, seeking the answer. She desired him and opened her mouth, only able to voice one word. “Yes.” He fitted himself below, nudging her pussy. When he cocked his hips back, she groaned. Ready to take him, she rocked her hips, enticing him. He smiled, glad to give her what she wordlessly sought. He thrust against her, not making entry, just increasing the pressure against the well mouth of her pussy. Makenzie found herself thrusting awkwardly toward his hips, forcing the head of his member to prop her open for entry. She swiveled, the head nudging her wider then entering her with a stretching pop. One or both of them groaned, but she couldn’t be sure, she felt so gone on him. He stopped there, not taking her any further. “Makenzie?” She looked at him, knowing the expression was only half as confused as she felt. “Be sure this is what you want. That I am what you want. Because when I take you, I’m not letting you go.” “Good god, Charyn, just fuck me.” Smiling, he wrapped his hands around her waist, ready to pull her onto him fully. Makenzie forced her eyes away from Charyn’s. His gaze locked on hers, more intense than she was ready for. Already he had her nose more than wide open. Lord only knew what would happen once she knew what it was like to be truly fucked by him. Turning her vision from her cage of rippled skin and taut muscle toward the door, she thought she was dreaming. In the open doorway, a man stood, one burnished blonde brow cocked. She screamed out, the sound shattering her quiet lover’s nest. Charyn craned his neck, peering in the direction she was gaping at. She didn’t know what was going on,

Bound by Accident

109

but looking at the male in the doorway, she saw marked similarities. The main differences were in the blond hair, shaggy and wind tossed, and the eyes. Charyn’s stare was always peculiar and too deep, even while the depths reminded her of mossy stones and rich earth. The mystery man’s was harsh, almost steely, even as the laugh lines softened the severity around them. Charyn spoke, the deep tone harsh, grating. “What the hell do you want, Deven?” Deven spoke, voice mocking, “Oh, the same thing we do every Monday morning. Carpool to the office.” Charyn grinned and laughed, slapping the bedding before replying. “Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be downstairs. Make yourself useful and make a pot of coffee.” Charyn looked at Mak, who was still mortified to be caught in her birthday suit by a stranger, and kissed her. Groaning, he told her, “I was just so caught up in you and didn’t even think about work.” He walked to the bathroom, tugging her to follow him. He sat her on the counter, brushing his teeth. When he was done, he grabbed a set of khaki trousers and a green sweater from the walk-in closet. Quickly pulling on the clothes, he offered her two options. “Either you can take the car inside my garage and go home, or you can stay here and I’ll come back by one.” Makenzie thought briefly, knowing she didn’t want to lay up today as there was too much to do. “I’m going to take your car. Today I should go ahead and contact my insurance company and the job so I can get short-term disability set up. Not to mention I need to pick up my rental car, too.” “I have a spare car. You are welcome to use it.” “I know, but I may as well use the rental, since it’s paid for.” She tugged on her tights, which Charyn was kind enough to wash the night before. When she made her way downstairs, she saw a cup of steaming coffee in a travel mug waiting for her. Smiling, she took the liquid

110

Jennifer Willows

crack in hand and walked to Charyn seated on the deck. The former mystery man, Deven, was seated across from him. She walked to him, hand held out for keys. He handed them to her and then formally introduced her to his brother. “Deven, meet me outside.” He took her hand, headed for the garage. When they walked inside, she saw the car within. Her mouth dropped open, drooling a bit. “Oh my god, you have a Barracuda! You’re actually going to let me drive her? I knew you were crazy, but this means you are majorly loco. You know you met me after a car accident, right?” He laughed at her, the sound hearty and full. “Yes, I do happen to recall that.” “Can I take the Hummer instead? This ‘car’ is showroom quality, a collectors dream, and I would be terrified to get a scratch on it.” “You’ll take this one. Deven rode his bike, so we have to take my car to work. The ’cuda has GPS in the console, satellite radio, and push-button start.” He showed her the key pad. As a theft precaution, the remote would start the car, but to go in gear, she had to insert the key. If she didn’t, the car would cut off. After setting the navigation system for her home, he handed her a toasted blueberry bagel and kissed her. “I’ll call you later. When you need to pick up your rental car, call me.” With that, he left, walking out the garage door. **** When he climbed in the truck, Deven looked at him, smirking. He knew his brother was smug, but Charyn found he didn’t care in the least. The best thing since sliced bread had wandered into his life, and his brother wasn’t going to spoil the feelings he just developed for the exotic beauty. “This is the man who is never late. She must be something special, especially since you never bring a woman to your house. You never let anyone drive the ’cuda, not even me. I can see her charm

Bound by Accident

111

though. She is incredibly beautiful. Her breasts are the most perfect Ds I’ve seen. And I’ve seen a few.” “You better pretend you never saw them.” It didn’t matter, or so Charyn tried to tell himself. But even knowing Makenzie wasn’t looking at his brother helped little to cool his hot head from saying the words. If either of his brothers wanted to test his resolve to keep her, they would find themselves disappointed and beat up. “Duly noted, brother. Tell me about my soon to be sister–in-law.” “She’s a fantastic artist. I’m thinking about asking her to sell us some of her paintings for the office.” “Really, haven’t had an artist before. She sounded passionate. Her name’s Makenzie?” “Yeah.” “Fits her, sort of a spunky name for a spicy lady. Is she a great fuck?” There was the brother he knew and loved, obnoxious to a tee, Charyn thought. “We haven’t yet.” “I don’t believe you. It looked like you were doing a good impression not an hour ago.” “You walked in on us. That would have been the first time.” Damn it. So close, yet so far away. He could still feel her wet and hungry for cock beneath him, swaddled in both his embrace and a clutch of blankets. “Oh, damn, sorry about that.” Charyn could see he didn’t feel sorry for him, not one bit. But it didn’t matter, he would still have his way with her tonight, when he taught her the meaning of hunger and need. “It will be fine. I need to take my time with her, anyway. She’s skittish, like the horses mom likes to take in hand.” “Does she have any sisters?” “Nope, but she has a best friend with a hair trigger.” “Mmm, I like the sound of that. What’s her name?” “Charli.”

112

Jennifer Willows

“How did you meet her? I’ve never heard you speak about her, so she must be a recent find.” “I met her on Friday. She was T-boned in car accident and pinned against a tree. That’s why I lent her the ’cuda. She had things to do today.” “Makes sense, I only saw your car when I pulled up. So how did that translate to today?” “The way she looked at me, she saw everything, down to the last detail. When she looked in my eyes, it took my breath away. Even with her car crumpled around her, she only saw me. I have never before gotten hard from a single look.” “Sounds deep. Hope you know what you’re doing. I can’t imagine fucking the same woman every night.” “You should try it. You might like it.” Even the healthy samples of pussy he’d had when eating Makenzie were better than some straight sex he’d had with other women. When they reached their offices downtown, they both headed in opposite directions toward their offices. Charyn was in a hurry. He wanted back in Mak’s arms. He was ready to take her tonight. If it were up to him, it would have been this morning. More than likely all day and night, just to make sure she was a hundred percent satisfied. He needed and wanted to glut himself in her until neither of them could take another orgasm. His cock hard once again, he gritted his teeth, working on last quarter’s Excel spreadsheet for the meeting later in the morning. **** After her harrowing morning, Makenzie was ready for the mountain of paperwork to be done and over with. She was at her laptop clicking away several hours later when the doorbell rang. She bounced over to the door, grateful for the momentary distraction.

Bound by Accident

113

When she unlocked and opened the door wide, her best friend stood there waiting for her, hip cocked, grin on her face. “Did you give that sexy man some of your cookies yet, boo?” Charli asked, her smile splitting her face wide. “Come on, I’ll give you the skinny.” Charli sauntered in, beautiful as always, a vision in a cream silk jumpsuit. “Love that romper, girl. Where you get that?” “My French connection sent it.” “Hmm, I want one, just not ecru. I couldn’t keep it clean.” “Aiight will do, boo, but don’t change the subject.” Makenzie could hear in Charli’s voice that she wasn’t going to let her best friend get away with less than full disclosure. Especially about something this juicy, and like it or not, she had to dish. “Okay, you got me. Let me submit this to the short-term folks.” Leaning over the sleeping laptop and its rainbow screensaver, she woke the computer and sent the online forms off with a few keystrokes. Makenzie closed the laptop and set it aside for the dish session with her best friend. Charli pulled a blunt out of thin air, rolled Jamaican style, complete with long baseball-bat end. She lit the soapstone oil burner nearest her, burning the blunt’s end when she finished. They passed the smoke back and forth before Charli started in with her inquisition. “So?” Charli asked, a prompt to begin. Makenzie told her everything, starting with Dojo. Charli’s eyebrows rose, looking as if her curiosity was piqued. But she kept silent, not wanting to miss any of the unfolding tale. Mak told her how he asked her to come home and about his promise to her. Charli groaned, disgusted that Mak still didn’t get any. But Charli perked up when she described the numerous orgasms Charyn gave her last night. Charli, ears burning red, asked, “So did you get him this morning?” Makenzie’s response left Charli’s eyes bugging. “Almost, we got started…Next thing you know, I look over and his brother was

114

Jennifer Willows

watching us…Girl, he had me so gone, we almost got down with no boxing gloves at the match.” “No way! Girl, quit playing. No glove, no love. Make sure you carry some next time. You don’t want baby-daddy drama or diseases Ajax won’t scrub off….Hold on, back up the bus…He walked in on you and watched?” “Yep, I had just got some of the dick, and when I looked up, there he was. Actually, it was erotic, but he looked like Charyn. Too much.” Charli demanded, “Describe.” Mak told her about his build, similar to Charyn’s, the only major difference being height. How his eyes were a steely blue, icy and penetrating. She could tell Charli liked what she heard. Even though she never went for white guys, Makenzie had a feeling…Deven sounded like he would be up her alley as a diversion. Especially if he worked it like his brother could. It had been awhile since Charli had a lover, and her needs had been long denied, whether she admitted it or not. After hearing the rest of the story, Charli chortled. “Damn, I feel sorry for you. A sexy man and all of the dick in the world and still can’t get none.” Mak smacked her with a rolled-up magazine. “Be like that, but when I get it, it’ll be better than Enrique. Bet money on that.” The reference to Charli’s last almost-lover left the pair in tears, nearly weak with laughter. Enrique was a genuinely nice guy, but his dick was the size of a two-year-old boy’s. “No way am I wasting pussy miles on that!” Charli exclaimed. “Wanna drink?” Nodding yes, Mak was gasping, sides hurting. Charli carried back two bottles of water, condensation frosting the plastic. They drank the bottles down, cool water quenching cottonmouth. When they finished their gossiping, Charli asked, “Do you want me to take your rental for you so you can drive that muscle car back?”

Bound by Accident

115

“Nah, Charyn’s going to do it.” “Aiight, I’m going to go do my hair. See ya later, doll.” Exchanging hugs, Charli left, closing the door behind her. It was nearly one thirty, so she opted to call it a day. Not wanting to waste the light, she started Charyn’s picture, the sketch from the other morning used to map the painting. The general aspects of the painting would only take a few hours or so to fill in. The hard part would be Charyn himself. The look in his eyes would be difficult to master. There was twinkle in his expression, slightly wicked, that would be hard to tweak to perfection, so she would come back and detail that phase in. The hard part for today would be patience, the waiting until she finished it. She hated her half-done works with a passion. Until completed, a painting always seemed to mock her. Walking away from the fumes of oil paint and turpentine, she grabbed her phone. She was ready to call Charyn but didn’t know his number. Looking in the phone, she saw he programmed it in. Happy, she pressed send, hoping to hear his voice. It rang once, and he answered, “This is Moreland.” Mak chuckled. “So that is how you answer the phone…I don’t know if I will call back, seeing as you don’t sound happy to hear from me.” “You know I always want to talk to you.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I would hope so, considering you almost stuffed me with dick this morning.” An amused tone in his voice, his response was, “Almost doesn’t count, you know.” “Yes it does. You had your tongue in my pudding.” He barked a rough laugh. “When do you need me to come by?” “Hmmm, sounds like a loaded question.” “It’s loaded, all right.” “I can go whenever, so come by when you are finished with work.”

116

Jennifer Willows

“I’m in a meeting. Give me half an hour, okay?” “That’s fine. What kind of meetings do you have where you can just have random conversations in the middle?” “You can interrupt anytime. These guys know what they are doing. We just like to pretend we’re a formal company.” Chuckling, they hung up. Makenzie was in the shower, washing herself at light speed. Jumping out, she slathered on moisturizer everywhere but her face. Slipping on pink boy shorts and matching bra, she opted for a broomstick skirt in a chocolate hue. She tossed on a peasant shirt, cream and embroidered at the neck in greens and gold thread. Putting on chunky bracelets and earrings in wood, she slipped on a pair of espadrille sandals. Her makeup was simple, a dust of mineral powder to remove shine and eye shadow, a sweep of gold and dark-brown eyeliner. Lip gloss was last, and she applied ChapStick first to ensure her lips were soft. Just as soon as she finished, the doorbell rang. Of course it was Charyn, with one addition. Deven. He smirked slightly, shaking her hand. She was a polite hostess, offering food and drink, as any good southern girl learned at birth. They both were happy to eat, considering Charyn refused lunch hour to get finished with the meeting faster. She served the quiche Charli left behind, with Deven’s lip smacking showing how much he appreciated the good meal. Mak took her phone and texted Charli, telling her how much the food was enjoyed. Charli’s text back was a code of slang and shorthand, the gist being she was coming over. Makenzie looked at Deven. “She said she will take her thanks in person.” Deven replied, “Can’t wait to meet her.” He smiled wickedly, and Mak knew she was about to see fireworks. Too bad they were going to be in the middle of her living room. By the time Mak cleared the table off, Charli was there, knocking at the door. She looked back towards the table, intending to ask

Bound by Accident

117

Charyn to let her friend in, but Deven beat him to the punch. The door opened and Charli sauntered in, still fab in the same cream jumpsuit. This time, she paired the jumper with a gold-toned sandal atop fiveinch heels. The look was fully accessorized at the wrists, ears, and throat with hammered gold plate. Makenzie could see the sparks flying off the pair on sight, and hoped no one got hurt. The pair of them superficially appeared to be opposites, but underneath she thought they approached life nearly the same. Charli took a fly-by-the-seat approach to life, and the only school she attended was for hard knocks. But she had contingencies for every endeavor she went on. Her decision-making process was just unusually fast. Charli was the type to make her mind up before most knew what they were facing. From what Charyn told her during the late-night spades game, Deven loved taking chances, but calculated all probabilities first. But once he tallied up the risks, he didn’t care if the cards were stacked against him. He was happy to take suicidal risks, as long as he knew what he was facing. He had attended several notable colleges, and had a PhD in some computer science. Both loved sex, but hated relationships. Both were smarter than people would perceive based on their appearances. Charli was underestimated for several reasons. She was beautiful, black, and female. She presented herself as a hood debutante, beautiful but not brainy, and most never understood her or her quick wit. Most seeing Deven would underestimate him, also. Considering he presented himself as a surfer bum to the world, with the way he casually treated life, most never saw the real man beneath. A lover of extreme sports, he tried anything from BMX bikes to parasailing, the textbook quintessential adrenaline junkie. When Makenzie pulled back from her woolgathering, she heard snippets of bickering. The pair of them spat volleys, arguing currently about the merits of yolks and whites in baking. Of all the things to fuss or complain about, she thought.

118

Jennifer Willows

She attempted to diffuse the argument, reminding them she needed to pick up her rental. They fussed out the door anyway, and when the party of four reached the drive, they split up. Charyn tugged her toward the ’cuda, leaving Charli and Deven to follow in the Hummer. She drove at Charyn’s request, as he was very interested to see how she handled the car on open road. Complying, she took the tiny loop on the ramp to the highway, even though it wasn’t needed to go across town. Switching into a higher gear, she pushed the engine, becoming a black blur headed for Highway 74. She hit the exit for Leland and whipped back in the other direction. The horses rumbled, revealing a land-bound jet in hiding. When they looped past the battle-station memorial, she slowed down. This was a favored hiding spot for state troopers, and she didn’t want to lose her license for reckless driving. Mak sighed, loving the engine’s feel purring around her, under her. Taking a right, she rode MLK Boulevard back to the middle of town. When they reached Market Street, she pulled into the rental company lot. The side trip took only an extra seven minutes, due to the powerful machinery and her quick handling. She looked at Charyn, who was grinning from ear to ear, his wide smile making her responding one loose and giddy. He leaned toward her, looking at the glossy shine of her ripe mouth. She chewed the lip slightly, prompting him. “You don’t know how good you look. Sex incarnate, makes me want to take you right here.” Mak was lost, didn’t know where he was coming from, and she said as much. “Charyn, as much as I love what you just said, it made not a lick of damn sense.” He laughed at that. “Yes, you do.” He took her hand, moving it to the front of his pants, the right leg bulged over with his erection. “You feel that? That’s from watching you drive. I hope you fuck me the same.”

Bound by Accident

119

His words stole her breath, her tongue. She didn’t know what to say. Mak put her foot in her mouth with her response. “I’ll try.” “You’re that innocent, aren’t you? You don’t have to try to be seductive, Makenzie. That’s the beauty of it. You are sensual, and everything you do screams it.” Flabbergasted, she went mute. Eyes wide, she put her hand on the door, thinking to climb out. He clasped her arm, preventing her escape. “You don’t get to walk away now, you know that right? Before this morning, you got that choice. But you gave me control, and now you have to try to make this work. Us work.” “Isn’t that my line?” Mak’s tone was dry, her words rhetorical. “Nope. Your line is, you’re right, Charyn. We have to make it work for the sake of the children.” His voice was a high falsetto, mocking feminine tones. Makenzie was laughing before she knew it, squeaking, “Children?” “Yep, like the ones we would have made this morning, had Dev not walked in. You got saved by the bell.” “I’m on the shot, Charyn, to help with my monthlies. I didn’t think you would remember that. It was really early in the morning. I just thought we would use them next time. So…” “It wouldn’t matter? Makenzie Stafford-Johns. That was the only time my cock has touched a pussy naked. I’m not going to forget that.” “Never? Not even after a frat-boy kegger? Even the morning after, early when you’re both half asleep?” “Nope. Didn’t like keggers much. No woman has ever slept at my house overnight, just my mom and you.” “But you’re so experienced. I would have thought…” “That I take chances with my life? I’m not really that type of man. I leave the daredevil antics to Dev. But make no mistakes, Makenzie. I am far from virgin, just careful.”

120

Jennifer Willows

“Wow, I’ve only had one lover.” “Just one? I knew it wasn’t many, but one?” “Yep, and we barely were together. Maybe once a month for the year we were together.” She felt her face flare up with heat, a hint around the cheeks and neck. His eyes seeking hers, Charyn tilted her chin, brushing her lips with his. She parted her mouth, tasting his lower lip. Backing away, she touched his lips with two fingers. He licked the digits, sucking finger pads, just enough to sear the taste of her on his tongue. She grunted at him, jerking the fingers back. The phone rang out in a Coltrane ringtone, breaking the silence. It was Charyn’s, coming from the HTC at his hip. His greeting was brusque, voice barking at the device, “Moreland.” It was Deven, sitting in the SUV next to them. Charyn put the phone on speaker, looking at Mak with a half-grin on his lips. “Dang, you are a horny little bastard.” Deven and Charli were laughing, sounds pealing in the close confines of the console. “You know, my parents were married when they spawned me.” Charyn pointed at himself. “Blast it, you’re right.” Deven again. “Makenzie’s not going to use the rental.” Charyn made the choice for her, never asking. “Okay, so what’s next then?” “Want your bike?” “Yeah. Be nice to get out of your guzzler. It’s almost on E now.” Deven slapped his knees. “You’re a damn liar, I just filled it this morning.” He gave his brother a rude gesture, to which they both chuckled. “Okay, okay, so what if it runs on vegetable oil? But we don’t all have to ride back. I can leave the Hummer in the garage. Makenzie can drop you off later.”

Bound by Accident

121

A shuffling over the mouthpiece let them know the phone changed hands. Charli said, “Imma see you later, Dev is going to take me for a spin on his bike. Keep me posted.” The phone hung up, and Mak pulled hers out, dialing the rental company as she backed out. She cancelled the reservation and drove away. “Where to?” “How about the movies? We didn’t get to see one last night,” Charyn offered. She made a U-turn at the next light, engine purring.

122

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 11: Run Rabbit Run Makenzie loved the movies, and this trip was no exception. Charyn bought the tickets from his phone app, and they walked in with no wait. They bought too much popcorn, drinks that were big enough to send them to the bathroom midway, and several boxes of sour gummies. After getting seats in the far back corner, they arranged the snacks, using her large bag to weigh the extra seat down. “I’m glad your bag weighs a ton. Otherwise we’d have to sit with this food in our laps.” Makenzie scoffed, “Stop bad-mouthing my bag, it saved your lap.” He snickered in response. The theater was practically empty, but there were pockets of people in singles and doubles, seated willynilly. He took her hand, rubbing her fingers as the movie started. His thumb was always busy, stroking the clasp of their fingers, her wrists, and the delicate center of her palm. The movie was a comedy, and they both found many jokes mutually laughable. By the end, they both ate and drank too much and took their leave once the room lit back up. Walking out hand in hand, they split up, each going to their respective bathroom. When Makenzie finished, she walked out, looking at the door of the men’s room. She heard a racial epithet, the tone scathing and slurred to the left of her. When she looked over, she saw two trashy men looking at her, one even rude enough to point in her direction. Both appeared to be drunk, had to be lushes, considering the time of day. Infuriated, she was more than ready to

Bound by Accident

123

smack the smirks off the rednecks’ faces. Before she could give either of them a piece of her mind, a firm hand clasped her upper arm. **** Charyn saw the look on her face when he exited the bathroom and knew something was wrong. Makenzie’s beautiful eyes were squinty, anger written on her face and in her stance. He strode over, fists clenched. He jumped in front of her, looking at the pair of losers, the racist bullies sagging when they saw him towering over them both. They backed up, no words needed. He spoke to them so they would never think to speak to a woman, especially his, that way again. “If you see me again, you’d better run before I see you.” They did just that, scurrying away just as the rats they were. He watched Makenzie walk away in a huff, angry and ready to punch someone or something’s lights out. She strode out the door muttering angry retorts, cursing under her breath, leaving him to run after her. Others patrons had heard her, and Charyn saw how they looked nervously around as she stomped past. The feminine espadrilles sounded like clogs, her steps were so heavy. Charyn was practically chasing her across the lot, and her legs moved twice for each step he took. When she reached the ’cuda, she climbed in, putting the car in gear. Charyn barely made it in the car before she started pulling back from the space. He strapped his seatbelt, and she did the same. He could see she needed to burn the anger off, and he would help her. He gave her directions to a backwater town near Person County, where the majority of occupants were animals and they outnumbered humans a hundred to one. She pushed the engine hard, gas pedal touching the floorboard. She hit a hundred, and the car growled, hungry for more gas, and she gave it, holding the pedal steady. When the car broke one twenty, she eased the gas off and coasted to a more respectable ninety. The car slowed further, and she stopped in the

124

Jennifer Willows

middle of nowhere, car canted sideways in the road. She looked at Charyn, a glint in her eye telling him she was ready. Ready for him, and all that it may mean. Smiling, she jumped out of the car, cocking her brow at him through the windshield. He stepped out, crossing in front of her. They hopped in, Charyn now in the driver’s seat. He spun a one-eighty in the road, tires screaming on the black top. He shifted gear, and the car purred. The transitions through each gear were so seamless, the car never so much as coughed during his up or down shifts. He made the forty-minute drive in eighteen minutes, two minutes less than the time it took Mak going there. When they got to Wilmington, he asked, “My place or yours?” “Surprise me.” When they pulled in her driveway, he opened the door for her. “We are staying at my house. But I brought you home to get some things you may need overnight.” “Why your place?” “Less people to hear you scream tonight. Unless you want Charli to hear you come all night.” “I’m not that loud, dang.” “Yes you are. I’d have to gag you every night if we lived in the city.” Mak gulped audibly. “Every night? Dunno about that, maybe once a week?” “I bet you’re wet right now. I know my cock is hard, and it happens at least once a day. If I get it up, your job is to get it down.” “You are dumb as a box of rocks.” “But I really like your box, Makenzie.” Charyn placed emphasis on the word box, and Mak shivered. He couldn’t wait. She had no idea what he was going to do to her, with her, tonight. Charyn found himself pacing the length of the hallway, waiting for her to pack. If he were with Tami still, just putting together one outfit would take an hour. Even that would be with his prodding her along.

Bound by Accident

125

Makenzie seemed to be simpler with her attire. She really didn’t need or use all of the things that Tami put so much stock in. During one weekend trip to visit his mom, she carried eight jars of facial cream. What in the world is someone going to do with that much face goop? Charyn thought ruefully, shaking his head at the old memory. **** Makenzie watched Charyn pace in circles, and the motions appeared impatient. But it was even sexier seeing him in motion. The view from the back was as good as the front, and, if pressed to choose a side, she had no idea which was better. Makenzie shook her head as she pulled down a small overnight bag, adding two pair of panties. One said “Tuesday” and the other said “Your name here.” Two wifebeater shirts, a pair of socks, a pair of rainbow plaid shorts, jeans, and a lone pair of Birkenstock slides. She took her facial soap and small makeup bag. Grabbing her scarf and some hair cream, she was ready to go. She enjoyed the brief drive, the CD player working Coltrane’s greatest hits. She felt mellow, and by the time they arrived, she was almost done for. Her eyes drooped, the prior night’s short rest catching up to her. Charyn carried her inside, Mak proclaiming the whole walk that she wasn’t sleepy. But somehow, in the midst of being laid down, before she could open her mouth, she was in the arms of Morpheus. Her dreams were hot, leaving her sweating in bed. Makenzie kicked at the covers surrounding her, needing air. In the vision she could see every detail, down to the small scar he had on his knee. They were the entertainment at Dojo, all eyes on them. She was spread-eagled on a chaise lounge, Charyn kneeling over her, while the voyeurs dined on the meal for the night, a mango chutney crostini served with jasmine rice and a stewed goat curry. The lesson was in cunnilingus. Spread out, her legs and arms were bound underneath,

126

Jennifer Willows

and she was open for all to see. She knew the blush that heated her face covered her body. She turned her head, the watched becoming the voyeur. In her dream, she submitted to Charyn, and all seeing them knew she was mastered. Knew that she was bested at the universal, primal game they portrayed. She begged for the first stroke of tongue, ready to be taken. He spread her nether lips, licked her in one hot pass, collecting nectar on each taste bud as he went. He loved the taste of her, and based on her pealing cries of pleasure from his enthusiasm, all watching knew it. She cried out, needing more. He gave it to her under the gaze of the watchful eyes, sucking her clit in his mouth. She was pleading with him now, the watchers pulled under the spell with her. Makenzie saw almost all of the diners were in varied states of sexual congress. The few who were not in the midst of coitus had finished and now watched from their different states of undress. A panting and replete couple of lesbians were naked and, seated to the left of her tent, leered at her. Another couple only bared the essentials, a spent semi-hard cock, pussy, breasts. Their night’s entertainment was an aphrodisiac, a Spanish fly, potent and drugging. The atmosphere absorbed it, as did all within the walls. She felt him move slightly, forearms now pinning her thighs open, a butterfly captured by the wings. She cried out, vulnerable, needy. He dove in, face planted firmly between her thighs. She was crying, unseeing, speared with tongue. He was sucking her dripping pussy, tongue funneling her honey into his waiting mouth. In her dreams he spoke to her, his words heating her further. Your pussy tastes so good, Makenzie. The first thing Charyn said to her. I can’t wait to fuck you. His next words were spoken from between her wet thighs. No part of her was left untouched or unmoved by his sensual handling of her. He used the juices dripping from her wet snatch to

Bound by Accident

127

lubricate his fingers, and the digits made their way south, circling her anus. They probed at her and she screamed, needy for more. Would you let me take you there? His question was rhetorical, and Makenzie didn’t respond to his query at first. But the pleasure from his fingers spearing her anal cavity required an acknowledgement, and she gave it. Yes! Anything you want, take it! Makenzie screamed, and she was in a state of rapture, too far gone to be embarrassed by her own dark longings and desires. **** In the real world, Makenzie tossed and turned, the fitted sheet barely hanging to the oversize bed. Charyn watched her for a moment, attempting to will away his hard cock as he went downstairs, turning on the small side-table lamp. He picked up his earpiece and dialed Deven. “Whadda you want, brother?” Deven asked, half asleep. “You fucked her friend in my living room.” “Damn you’re good.” “I have eyes, numb nuts. You left ass and handprints on my door. If I plan on washing ass, it had better be mine or something mine. Be here by eight and clean my door, will ya?” Charyn requested drily. “Okay, okay, gotcha, eight a.m. to wash ass door. Is that it?” “Yeah, and by the way, how was it?” “Damn close to the best I’ve ever had. Throw a wild cat in the river, and she’s what you would get.” Deven chuckled. “Put me to sleep. Later.” He disconnected the line and locked the house up. Strolling to the bedroom, he stripped naked, clothes flung into the waiting hamper. The bed was a mass of crumpled sheets and scrunched up blankets with Makenzie now resting peacefully in the midst of chaos. He pulled the blanket down and climbed into bed, cupping his woman’s

128

Jennifer Willows

breast. The other cupped her pussy, her only modesty thin pink lace. He drifted into slumber, dreaming. In Charyn’s dream, Makenzie was seated on his cock at Dojo, and everyone watched them. He fucked her without mercy, no pity. He took her so hard that in real life he would have broken her pelvis. She begged for more, whimpering. He gave it to her, throwing every ounce of himself into her pussy. She was screaming, all the patrons leering. He didn’t see anyone but her, and the vision of his cock emerging with each stroke from her juicy pussy. It felt so good, so real, Charyn awoke still cupping her mound, and the strength of his grip had two fingers breaking the lace crotch to lodge in the wet heat of her sex. Charyn could hear his fingers slurping as he started flexing his thick digits inside her. He could tell by the rocking of her hips that she wanted more, sensed the pleasure half-waking her. He laid still and waited to see her reaction to his nocturnal invasion. As she drifted back to consciousness, she looked over at him. Charyn kept himself tranquil enough to make Makenzie think he was still sleeping. Mak touched herself, fingers tapping her clit counter to her hips rocking. She came on his hand, a gentle orgasm. When he heard and felt her coming, Charyn groaned her name. Pleased with the sound her name made on his lips, she smiled and lay back, replete in the dark of night. Charyn enjoyed Makenzie’s stolen orgasm taken from his fingers. He loved watching her come, the power fueling his ego. He had told himself to wait, just long enough to make her comfortable with him, them. But her silent splendor made him jealous, and he wanted all of her now. Deciding to take the upper hand, he whispered into the pitch black, “So you decided not to wait for me again?” She groaned, whispering back, “Why do you always catch me playing with myself? Makes me feel like a perv.” “That’s because you’re perfect for me. Any woman strong enough to take me on has to thrive on a diet of steady orgasms,” Charyn

Bound by Accident

129

responded, voice a rasp on the silken sheets. Mak stared in the distance, even the darkness unable to hide her longing for him. Charyn used the sopping fingers inside Makenzie to stroke her sensitive G-spot, hooking the digits forward and watching her shudder in his clasp and cry out once more, near coming for him again. God knows, she was made for him. **** She felt naked, and not just physically. At least if it were just about clothes, all her misgivings could be brushed off. He saw too deeply inside her, left no place to hide. No mask that she could wear would conceal her now. But they were too different. It wasn’t a blackand-white thing, although that would be the obvious reason. That difference just underscored the real ones. Their whole lives were polar opposites. He was born with a silver spoon, while she grew up a single block from the bad side of the railroad tracks. He was a big fish in an ocean-sized pond, and she was a guppy in the beta-sized fishbowl. He was…outside of her sphere. There was no way in the world they were able to be equals in a relationship. She couldn’t keep up, and she would spend the entirety of their liaison being educated by him. But what did she bring to the table? Nothing. Anything she could give him he could get with or without her in ways she had never heard of and didn’t know existed. A good meal could be bought. A beautiful woman for the night to play his games with was likely free for a man like him. Unless he preferred to pay for it, and she doubted that was his style. Even her paintings could be bought. For a man who probably cut his teeth on fine art created by masters, anything she fashioned wasn’t probably worth what he spent on toilet paper each month. Conversely, she knew he would defend her from any and everyone. He wanted to take time, for her, get to understand her mind.

130

Jennifer Willows

He was gentle, even at the moments that she could sense his control was shot. For those reasons, she would rather take these hours before dawn with him than eternity with another. Mind made up, Mak looked at him, willing to give everything to him for one night only. Charyn spoke first, as if he knew what was on her mind. “Come here. You’re too far away.” “I’m right beside you,” Mak responded, looking away. “Uh-uh, you can hide from anyone, anyone but me.” “I know…it’s just hard to share so much with someone. I’ve been alone most of my adult life. I’m not used to this, and you came out of nowhere.” “Yep, kind of blindsided, but you know we fit.” “Yes.” Mak’s single word spoke volumes. “I can give you time, Mak, just give us time.” Mak didn’t want to wait for him. She had soul-searched enough. Now was the time for action. She touched Charyn, just his face, sweeping the jaw line. He skimmed hers in response, his caresses gentler than hers, as if she were fine bone china. It made her ache somewhere in her chest, deeper than her heart. It made her nervous, as if she’d never had sex. She was unable to look at him, the pangs telling her she was falling for him. In too deep, for a man she barely knew. Makenzie knew that this was the only night she could have with him, or she was going to break her own heart in two. It was Tuesday morning, and as good a day as any to fall in love. Charyn pulled her closer, skin to skin, every part touching its mate. She took a deep breath, air scented with him, sandalwood and spice. He scented her back, long inhalations that gave her goose bumps. He whispered in her ear, “This time is just you and me, no props, just us. Makenzie and Charyn.” She nodded, knowing that they would only have this moment. She refused to be like her mother, whose existence was so tied to her husband she nearly wasted away when he grew tired of the burden of caring for their small family. Makenzie had watched her mother

Bound by Accident

131

become a shadow of herself over the years, just going through the motions. Her mother lost weight and grew pale, and as an adult she now understood her parent was depressed at the time. But for the child she was, the day her father walked away was the moment that made her as she was today. The single instance taught her to never fall head over heels. That wrinkle in time showed her not to trust the male sex. If she gave him anything more, she would be lost, no longer herself. She was already sprung and willing to do anything with him, for him. If one scorching night of almost-sex was enough to leave her feeling like this, what would a single month feel like? Or even a year? She couldn’t give him enough time to bring her to the point of becoming her mother. When he walked away, she would be just another woman attempting to survive being broken by the man of her dreams. The end of their relationship would render her unable to return to her former life and whatever small comfort she could dredge from her lonely bed. Even if her life was not perfect, she had learned to make do and find a sense of peace and tranquility within herself. He would tire of her eventually. Life had taught her all men did. **** Charyn saw she was pensive. With any other person that ordinarily wouldn’t be a problem, but with Makenzie anything was possible. Her face showed the battle she fought within, reflected how torn she was. He knew he was the reason for the internal conflict, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let her walk away from him even though he knew it would make her life easier or simpler. True, he was being selfish, but she was worth any confrontation or facing any opponent. He had spent numerous years alone, and meeting her made each one worth the wait. There was just something about her, and he

132

Jennifer Willows

couldn’t explain it. She set him on fire without effort and magically made his life brighter with her spunk and zest for life. The opportunity to have the perfect woman for him had presented itself, and he was not a man to let grass grow beneath his feet. Charyn kissed her, tongue searing her lips. His hands roamed, sliding over her skin. He touched her wherever he pleased, taking control of her pleasure effortlessly. “Makenzie, you’re so soft, baby.” No other woman felt like this. Supple and strong, able to take all he had to offer without him coaxing or prodding for more. Her sighs and moans were his road map over her body. He wanted to know her every reaction to his touch, wanted every sensation he gave to intensify her pleasure. He regretfully pulled his lips from hers, wanting to taste the skin he was feeling with his hands. The calloused finger pads passed over every inch of her not plastered against him. He heard her breath change when he latched on her breast, sucking the whole areola and surrounding flesh in his mouth. He laid his head on her chest, suckling, tugging, then tasting the wrinkles of her nipple. He heard her heartbeat, so fast his own stuttered. Leaving the ripe mound, he slid down, tasting her thighs and knees. Charyn heard her whimper, knowing she was close. He wanted to hold her back, so he licked the crease of thigh and hip. Sucking the skin there, he left a mark, could feel its heat. She cried out, needing him. Makenzie was blubbering, random pleas falling from her lips. Charyn was hard-pressed not to come, as if he had never touched a woman. Truthfully, he never had. Every liaison he ever had was sordid and impersonal compared to this. He never touched a woman with intent to bind her to him forever. He wanted the others to walk away satisfied, but didn’t give a damn about them and barely remembered half their names. He couldn’t even remember his last lover’s face well enough to pick her from a lineup. Charyn rose up on his forearms, looking at the object of his desires. Makenzie was a mass of contradictions, giving

Bound by Accident

133

her body to him on a platter, but withholding something more important. The emotions she hid from him now, he never wanted or needed from any other woman. He was going to take them and her. Charyn heard her curse him and knew she was on the brink of being unable to deal with any more of his sensual torture. He knew she was so close she could taste the next orgasm on her tongue. Exactly right where he wanted her. He smiled. He scooted closer to her, dragging his chest over her belly, her breasts as he blanketed her sensitized flesh. His mouth nuzzled hers, opening her lips with firm pressure and pointed tongue. She sucked the tip of the invader, caressing it with her own. “Shit, Charyn…please…” Makenzie apparently wasn’t too proud to beg for him. “Please what, Makenzie? Please you? Fuck you…or make love to you?” “Oh God! I don’t care…anything you want.” Charyn couldn’t help the smug look he knew was on his face. God, he adored this woman. “Good girl, my Makenzie.” “Oooh…” The cry from her lips trailed into a choked gasp. He felt her belly constrict with arousal against his, and Charyn nipped her neck, leaving rapidly fading teeth marks in his place. He wasn’t expecting the nip he received in return on his extended arm, but he should have. Damn vixen. She was in for a hell of a ride tonight. If she walked away from his bed in the morning without aid, it was because he had mercy on her tonight. He didn’t feel merciful though. Not one bit. Charyn groaned and thrust his hips against hers. His cock, thick, heavy, was nudging her portal. She wanted it now, and shuttled her hips against it, attempting to help him gain entry. He cocked a brow at her and took over. Splaying his knees wide, he forced her thighs open, gaping, wishboned. He pressed her opening gently, the head propping her weeping pussy open. Using finesse, he stroked her, giving an inch. He could see she wanted the mile, though, and let him know that with

134

Jennifer Willows

her needy movements. She was circling her hips, the most his clutching arms would permit, as Charyn took control of her lower body with an implacable grip. She cursed him again, wanting more, and he gave her another inch then took it back. After he seated half his cock, she was impaled, and he was left to wonder how she would take the rest of him. Charyn knew his hunger was more than she could take. But she asked for it, in fact was begging for it. Hot and rock hard, he speared her with more, leaving just a few inches to go. Squirming, Makenzie keened out, the sound ringing in the quiet. He told her how good she felt, how irresistible. “Give it to me!” she screamed at him, and his cock seemed to engorge further. The few inches he could see remaining outside her were darker and thicker than normal. “So demanding.” He licked his lips and backed his cock away from her clinging pussy. Only the head was left to linger inside her snatching wet grip, and Makenzie began to rock vainly for more. She was ready for more, all of him. He gave it to her, one savage thrust seating him fully. “Ahhh…!” she screamed out and couldn’t hold back. She was coming, and his cock was being suffocated, almost ripping what little control Charyn had to his name. He rocked his hips to the staccato rhythm provided by her seizing muscles. His eyes widened as he heard her keen, the peak never dropping off, just raising her higher, to another. **** She clasped his arms, arching against him deeply as he slid his hands and arms under her. Makenzie held on to her sanity, just barely, as Charyn’s thick ten inches dug deeper. She felt her cervix bow to his cockhead as he clenched her shoulders from underneath her. He was dragging her, rocking her back and forth on his erection. She was

Bound by Accident

135

screaming, the sound nearly one of bloody murder. Makenzie wailed over and over again, stuttered sounds testimony to the intensity of her climax. He spoke, the words low and harsh due to his gritted teeth. “You’re screaming already, love it. Mmm…I haven’t even done anything good to you yet…” Charyn’s voice trailed off as he looked her in the eye, and Makenzie could only guess what she looked like at the moment. Not that it mattered. He resumed the punishing pace of his strokes, and her pussy fluttered against the stiff intrusion. His eyes closed and re-opened. “That’s it, baby, I love to watch you come. Give me more of that honey.” If this wasn’t good, Makenzie didn’t know what was. There was no way that she could keep from exploding. She gave it, sugared walls spurting juices, freshly squeezed for him. His expression showed he was going to give in to her manipulating walls and come. It seemed in that moment Charyn let go of the reins of control and threw himself into her, hitting every spot hidden within. The violence of the strokes he smacked her with were close to bruising. He punished her with her own need, and she loved it. She wanted him, every drop of seed he could plant in her soil, fertile or not. Her hands clenched his back, nails biting him. When he came, the groan sounded painful, a man on fire. He looked at her, their chests heaving in concert. Both were damp from head to toe. Beads of sweat coated skin, sexual dew. His forehead was pressed to hers, and she lifted her lips to his. Their kiss was sweet, devoid of the fire and heat from moments ago. He rolled over, bringing her on top, still embedded inside her, his semihard-on trapping their sexual cocktail inside her. He laughed, and she smiled back. “Gotta love the wet spot,” he said, deadpan. Her core was still fluttering, his cock still throbbing while she limply lay there. What could be said in this moment that her eyes didn’t speak, that her body didn’t show?

136

Jennifer Willows

Makenzie was the first to look away, almost pulled under by his intense gaze. She was spent, and the only sensation left was the cool air drifting over heated flesh, drying exposed limbs. Mak closed her eyes, rested her head. She had never imagined sex could be so good, so intense. Being intimate with him made her feel like her soul left her body, like she was flying high then crashing back to her body in an instantaneous conflagration of searing madness. It was insanity, that feeling of rapture and begging need. Makenzie had never felt that much in her life. As if every emotion sparked alive with his touch. Charyn stroked her back, calloused palms rasping over her skin. She felt like his possession, and in this moment didn’t mind being owned. In fact, she reveled in the knowledge of his ownership. It let her not be responsible for anything but experiencing sensation. Not be culpable for her debasement, or the glory she found in her senses. She was responsible for nothing but breath, and that was nearly beyond her at the moment. Each time she inhaled, the intake was shallow and nowhere near enough air to keep her alive. As they lay there, his hands never stopped moving, touching, and kneading over the damp curves of her spine. Her hair had half come free of its braided state, and the strands tickled her face. Her throat was too scratchy for comfort from her hollering, and her mouth parched from continuous panting. Makenzie turned her face into the crook of his neck, soaking wet and scented of him. She took her sandpaper-dry tongue and licked the beads of water from his skin. His cock jerked inside her once and she heard him groan. The sample of his sweat tamped back her thirst and salted her lips. She lay pillowed on top of his hard frame, shuddering and silent. If only…She could have him every night for the rest of her natural life. Damn. Charyn dicked her down meticulously, and she actually thought in terms of the rest of her life. What the hell had she gotten herself into? ****

Bound by Accident

137

Charyn couldn’t sleep, just caressed the skin of his lover the rest of the night. Over and over, he stroked her, mapping her by feel, the way the blind did. He felt the kinky texture of her hair, the satin of her skin, the way the texture changed at her elbows. He learned every inch he could reach in the moonlight, held her another hour until just before dawn. When the pinks of dawn came from the ocean, he reluctantly left her. His cock had grown hard during his exploration of her, and left her tight channel with a pop and gush of seed. He wanted her to wake to the most beautiful day he could give her, so he ran a hot bath. Opening the bathroom windows wide, he let in fresh air, scented with sea and salt. He added Epsom salt to soothe her and bubbles to please her. Padding naked downstairs, Charyn put together a simple breakfast, fresh fruit and bagels, coffee. He put everything on a tray and set it out by the tub. Walking back to her, he pulled her close and hefted her in his arms. She stirred and looked at him, eyes glazed over from orgasms and sleep. Makenzie smiled at him, and he smiled back, stepping into the Jacuzzi tub with her. She shuddered, not getting the opportunity to acclimate herself to the heat beforehand. They sank into the clouds of foam, so dense, bubbles slipped over the edge and hit the floor. Charyn cradled her in his arms, and she was hardpressed to remember her own name. He fed her a few bites of banana, then a wedge of mango. She returned the favor, feeding him bites of bagel she spread with cream cheese. He turned her around to face him and, probing, seated her on his cock. She bowed her back and her breasts made an offering. He disabused her of that notion, saying, “I just needed to feel you around me. Eat.” Charyn then supplied her a few bites of bagel, followed by kiwi. When the meal was finished, he took one mug filled with coffee, made the way they both liked it. He gave her a sip and took one for

138

Jennifer Willows

himself when she waved the mug away. After finishing the warm beverage, the mug was placed back on the tray. Taking a large yellow sponge, he lathered her, arms, legs, back, chest. She did the same, learning him. The sponge crumpled between them as she moved in, kissing him, tempting him into action. He rocked his cock inside her, and she responded, swiveling her hips back. Each motion answered the other, going back and forth, each stroke sweet and slow. Soon their passions needed more, and Charyn pulled the plug out of the water. He stood, Mak’s legs folded around his hips. He turned on the water, shower spray raining around them. Then he trapped her against the nearest wall, with her back wedged in the corner. He took her right there, the steam blanket smothering them. The smells of sex folded around them, drifting from the open window. He drilled her, cock bent on conquering her, and he tried to soften the blows. But he was helpless, mindless, his cock in her wet, clinging sheath the only thing that existed. He growled as she came, bit her neck, a lion claiming his mate. She was crying, the tears mingling and disappearing with the spray. He took her further, tugging her arms overhead, pinning them with one of his. The other was occupied, holding her around the seat her buttocks made. He sucked her lip, the salty tears altering her sweet taste. She came again, the gasp one of surprise, and cried out, “Charyn!” Mak’s head drooped, and she bit him, right where his shoulder met the thick cords of neck. It made him angry, her teeth clenching one of the few spots guaranteed to make him come. He didn’t want to yet, and, desperate, he stopped rocking his hips. But stopping didn’t help, as he was too far gone. Letting go was a foregone conclusion, and he did what nature dictated, cursing. “Fuck! Makenzie, baby, yes, baby…” His hips refused to stop rocking hers even after she siphoned every drop of semen he had to offer. God, this woman made him crazy in such a good way.

Bound by Accident

139

They didn’t move until the shower, unable to put out any more warm water, iced down on them. Giggling, they both ran to the bedroom, water flying. The pair dabbed at each other with towels, and Charyn looked at the clock. Damn. It was eight ten, and he needed to get dressed. Reluctantly, he kissed her, wishing he didn’t have to go in, but he already had two non-negotiable meetings this morning. One was with a Japanese firm, and due to the time difference, it needed to start by nine. He told this to Makenzie as he dressed in brown corduroy slacks, loafers, and cream cable-knit sweater. Charyn didn’t want the morning to end. If anything, he desired to hole up with her somewhere quiet and listen to her scream while he drilled her pussy to dust. **** Makenzie had decided what she was doing with the rest of her day. When she got the hell out of Dodge, she was going to pack for a few days and go home to her mother. Hopefully, by then she could gain enough time to heal her heart and gain perspective. She tried to be nonchalant, but it was too difficult with him in her face. In the bathroom, standing at his side as they both used the mirror felt intimate and natural. Almost as if this moment was how it was supposed to be. As he dressed, she did the same, pulling on a wife beater and plaid pants, eschewing a bra. Sliding on the Birkenstocks, she struggled to pick her hair, tangled as it was. Adding a hefty portion of pink lotion, she brushed a ponytail, braiding the puff back, and pinned it down. She covertly watched Charyn pull on his boxer briefs from the corner of her eye. Even soft, his cock was the size of a battering ram, and she was amazed he was able to get her rarely used pussy to accept his extra-large shaft so easily. His foreplay was on the money, preparing her well. Though she was slightly sore and sensitive, Makenzie felt no pain from the erotic exertions of the night and

140

Jennifer Willows

morning. The only pain she felt was inside her heart, which she knew now belonged to the man next to her. The man was a lethal combination of masculinity and sexuality, and she wished that the night wasn’t at an end. There was so much more she wanted to try with him. Things she dreamed of when sleeping, and fantasized about when pleasing her body solo. But the morning had arrived, regardless of what she wanted. She had seized enough of the day. It was time to return to the real world and her life. As is, her reluctance to let him go showed her it was time to bail. When she took more than a cursory glance in the mirror Charyn was staring at her. The look was so intense and lustful it made her want to change her mind about her plans for today. He didn’t move, just watched her like she belonged to him lock, stock, and barrel. It was rude to ogle someone like he was. Better yet, it should be illegal to wield the soul-penetrating glare he used on her. It made her think he saw through her nonchalant air. As is, she was trying hard to feign self-assurance she didn’t feel at the moment. Every second that passed, Makenzie felt herself drawn in by him. His heated gaze wasn’t diluted one iota by the mirror translating it. She felt hunted and, to quell her nervous nature, busied herself with nothing, and packing the makeup bag gave her something to do. Aside from look at him, that is. “What?” She pretended that she didn’t know why he was staring at her so hard, like she was the last drop of water on earth and he was dying of thirst. “I can’t look at you now?” His face was a study of contrasts, hot eyes, quirked lips, and questioning brows. “Not like that, you can’t.” She was working on walking away, not climbing back in bed with the Master. “Like what, Makenzie?” His face was smug, and he had to know it. Damn him.

Bound by Accident

141

She couldn’t help baiting him the same way he did her. “Like you are the big bad wolf and Makenzie is what’s for dinner.” Charyn chucked and replied, “I would love to eat you right now.” He kissed her lips, and she found herself drinking in his scent lustily. The kiss was long enough to slip her a teasing tongue, which parried hers once, no, twice. He sauntered away, and she couldn’t help drinking her fill of his ass, firm and slightly full. Charyn had a quarterback’s ass on a defensive linebacker’s body. A deadly mix of perfection and sin wrapped up in one fine specimen of the male sex. What the hell was wrong with her? She was walking away, and half the women in America would slap her for even thinking of it. “I’m coming home after lunch, will you be here?” Mak thought long about what to say. She didn’t want to outright lie to the man. She kept it simple, only saying, “Nah, I’m gonna go home.” He didn’t need to know what that really meant. “All right, I’ll call you later. Want to have me for lunch?” His eyes sparkled and smiled. “No…I think imma eat some real food,” she sputtered back. Makenzie knew he could see that she was nervous, and her attitude didn’t help any. She was fidgeting, biting her lip, playing with the hem of her beater tank. She hoped he didn’t know it, but the Tuesday boy shorts were already wet. She knew she was crazy to think of running. Any other woman would hold him close until he tired of her. But she would rather leave now, on a good note. Better that than the alternative, to have her heart and soul broken later. She had given him parts of herself that she couldn’t get back, true, but he had given her more than he ever took. No one had ever watched her at work, and only a privileged few saw the finished results. Even fewer could claim ownership. He was the only muse she ever had. ****

142

Jennifer Willows

Charyn didn’t want to let her go, but he had to get the jump on the Yakima merger so his youngest brother Marques could get his part of the negotiations finished in Japan. He asked Deven to meet him at the Hummer, even as he walked towards the door. Before leaving, he stopped in the doorway, gaze penetrating her, seeing what she was trying desperately to hide. Charyn could see the fear and longing for him in her eyes and knew she was going to run from him. Flee from their fledgling relationship. But he would let her, and enjoy catching her. He had the element of surprise on his side. She didn’t know he knew. So he smiled, enjoying the last taste he would get of her, for now. Walking outside, he watched her backside swish, tick-tocking. Her gait was hampered slightly, and he could see a bruise on her shoulder. Remembering how he gave her the injured skin in the shower, back pinned to the wall, made him shudder. He was a large man and had never let go with anyone that way, giving them all of him, all the strength he was used to holding back. When she left he watched her back the ’cuda down the driveway, hitting the horses hard, car leaping away. Run, little rabbit, run, Charyn thought to himself as he climbed in the Hummer. “Spit it out.” Charyn knew Deven had something to say about his new lover but didn’t know how. If it were him, he wouldn’t know how to say the simple truth that was plain to see. “You know she’s gonna run, right?” Apparently Deven was going for the direct approach today. He must not have had enough coffee this morning. Charyn would have thought he would ask how she was in bed first. “Yep, can’t wait to catch her.” He couldn’t. She didn’t know it yet, but he already knew what she was going to do. His Makenzie was fleeing as fast as her legs and a Hemi could carry her.

Bound by Accident

143

“You are a plumb country fool. Was she that good?” There’s the Deven he knew and loved, Charyn thought. “Better.” Words couldn’t describe her clinging wet pussy and fierce sensuality. She was all his, from the hair on her head to the tips of her delicate feet. “Damn. Great enough to let her run in your Barracuda? That’s close to a quarter-million-dollars worth of car. I’d hope you would get more out of it than one weekend.” “I will. By the time it’s done, Makenzie will know who she belongs to.” She already did. That’s why she was running scared. They made the rest of the drive to work in silence. The Hummer flew as Charyn handled the huge vehicle with ease, speeding and snapping in and out of morning traffic. Deven was thoughtful the whole way, and appeared like he was worried about his brother’s sanity. Charyn was pensive for a different reason. He was mapping out her flight from him, which could go one of two ways. Either A) she would leave with the ’cuda, making it a piece of cake to find her with GPS, or B) she would duck out with the rental car, making it just a hair tougher to find her. Charyn was guessing, but if she left town, she would most likely go to her mom. Their bond was close, parent and child by birth, friends by choice. He was fairly sure of the timeline she would leave with, too. She should be home now. In thirty, maybe forty-five minutes she would be on the road. She should be in Charlotte in three hours, three and half in traffic, pushing the Hemi. He could have the troopers on the lookout for her with a call. He could ask them to watch her, but not to issue her any tickets. He didn’t want to spook her until she arrived. Charyn also had several ways he could approach her running from him. Not sure of which was best, he drove on autopilot. No matter what path he took, all ended with her punishment. After which she would never run again. When they parked, he waited for Makenzie to start sowing the seeds of her downfall. Walking up the stairs, he

144

Jennifer Willows

arrived in the meeting room at eight fifty-five. Just quick enough to brief the other team members before the conference call. The meeting was started on time and ended before scheduled. Sending a text to Dev, he told Marge he was gone for the week and to farm the rest of his workload out. Her response was as expected. “So she ran from ya, hon? Makes sense…You were on her like white on rice. Probably scared the shit outta her. Same thing I did to Sal before we got married. When you catch her, better show her who’s boss. Or she’ll run you ragged. She still may either way. She looks the type.” He laughed, the twinkle returning to his eyes. Marge smiled back, and Charyn realized he was happier than ever before, even with Tami.

Bound by Accident

145

Chapter 12: Make Me Makenzie’s day started as planned. She sped home, breaking the sound barrier with hefty rumbling of the Hemi. She cried most of the way, tears stopping only when the car did. When she arrived, she called the car company and requested a pick up. It would cost her a few bucks, but she wanted to get on the road, ASAP. She knew Charyn would be looking for her at lunchtime, and she wanted to be gone by then. She would leave the ’cuda here, keys with Charli. When he came by, then she could give him the keys so he could take it home. Packing enough clothes for a week, she crammed the duffel bag shut. She took the small makeup bag from last night. Grabbing her oil paints, brushes, and the like, she touched the work from the weekend of Charyn. Seeing the preliminary coating was dry, she packed it carefully, wrapping it in Saran Wrap and parchment first. Taking everything to the front door, she washed her face and unplugged the major appliances except the fridge. Calling Charli, she put the keys to her borrowed car in an envelope with Charyn’s name on it. She moved her bags and painting outside, locking the door behind her. Charli ducked out her door, face questioning. “What happened? Oh my god, look at that hickey! You gave him some? Had to, you’ve got a bruise on your back.” “Nothing happened, Charli, I’m just going to see mom, that’s all.” “Tell the truth and shame the devil, Mak.” “Fine, you want the truth? He blew my back out. I’m not woman enough to handle him, Charli, and the sooner I realize it, the better.”

146

Jennifer Willows

The words were slightly bitter to Makenzie’s ear, and she saw her friend wince. “Bullshit! If you weren’t woman enough, you wouldn’t have got the dick at all.” “I think I love him,” Mak said, voice small, trembling. Charli’s face showed her pity. “Oh, boo, I’m sorry. Don’t you think he cares about you? Or could grow to love you?” “No, I’m a small fish in a small pond. He’s a big fish in a big pond.” “That doesn’t matter. You are wonderful, just as you are, and given time, he may care for you. I know you didn’t want to fall head over heels, but even I would give my eyeteeth for a man like that.” “I just want to feel equal to the man I’m with. It feels so onesided, I could never catch up. When he realizes that I have nothing else to offer, he’s going to leave me. Better now, when I have a chance at being okay with it in time. Later, I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t want to be broken beyond repair, unable to share myself.” “Mak, why do you feel so bad about yourself? You have much to offer, not the things he does, true. But what you bring to table, his money can’t buy.” Seeing her face, Charli hugged her tightly, asking, “What am I supposed to tell him?” “Most likely we will have already spoken. Just give him the keys, Charli.” “All right, I hope you figure out what you’re doing.” “I already did. The plan, remember?” Before Charli could respond, the rental driver pulled up, tooting the horn. They carried her bags out, hugging one last time. When Mak left town a quick thirty minutes later, she was obnoxiously bumping the speakers to reggae music. The small car, a Ford, was squeaky clean and barely used. Only thirty-five miles on her, and the engine had spunk. She pushed the engine, hard, hitting ninety at one point. She hit Charlotte in three hours flat, cruising

Bound by Accident

147

South Boulevard, headed for her mom’s. Parking in the driveway, Mak walked up the stone path. Before she hit the porch, her mom bounced out, all hugs and kisses. When they walked inside, her mom helped with her bags. In the kitchen, her mom made tea, her usual favorite, chamomile. Mak opted for Chai Spice, wanting something stronger. She debated what she should say about her visit, hasty as it was. Taking a wait-and-see approach, she sipped in silence. Her mom just watched. When she was done, her mom said, “Now I will hopefully find out what the something is.” Makenzie told her everything, just carefully edited some of the steamier parts. Her mom had a glint in her eye that told her she knew there was a little more to the tale than she alluded to, her only comment, “You gave him your cookies, didn’t you? I can see, you know. That hickey didn’t show up on its own. And don’t tell me that you ran into the vacuum, ’cause I wouldn’t believe it. If I was your age, I would have given in the first night.” Mom smacked her knees laughing, bent over. “He was sexy, and his eyes were all over you. So that’s why you ran?” “Basically.” Her mom must have ESP, as she hit the way she felt on the head. “Hmm, musta rocked your world to have you run all the way here.” Looking hard in her eyes, her mom broke down the truth. “Look, Makenzie, you’re a woman now. If you want him, take him. Real women don’t go running in the night. Girls do, and I ain’t raised none of them.” “I’m scared, mom. I just don’t want to lose myself.” “Like I did with your father?” Nodding her head, Makenzie acknowledged the truth. “Yes, I don’t want to feel the way you did when dad left you. I heard you crying at night. I heard you pace the floor, not eating. I saw all of it and decided I never wanted to give that much of myself. I just want to

148

Jennifer Willows

meet a nice guy, maybe have babies. You don’t need great passion for that, mom.” Her mom looked stricken, and Makenzie regretted telling the truth so baldly. “You’re right, Makenzie, but like the lotto, you can’t win if you don’t play. I’m not saying that he’s the only spark you’ll find. There could be others, but they will be few and far between, and your own choices may keep you from meeting them. You weren’t raised to be afraid. Life is too inconsistent for that. Things can change in the blink of an eye. Don’t ever be afraid to take life by the horns. Shoot, if you have to live with your choices, good and bad, may as well go for what makes you happy.” Mak shook her head, understanding now. “With that said, how do you feel about him?” her mom asked. “I think I’m in love,” Mak said, the only tear she hadn’t wept rolling its way down her face. “Aww, baby, it’s gonna be okay. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her mom rubbed her back, kneeling next to her chair. “Mom! You can’t tell me it’s all right to fall in love upon sight!” Mak laughed. “Yes I can. That’s what should happen in an ideal world. The person most perfect for you should ring a bell or two when you meet em’. The thing is, it’s in the gut. Most don’t listen to theirs. They hear their mind more than their body, but you have to be evenly yoked. God made people to hear him. It’s called instinct. Just listen to him, Makenzie, he never steers you wrong.” Makenzie knew her mom dropped some major knowledge on her. She sat there silent, thinking. Her mom had one other thing to say. “Regardless, you’re here, and we are gonna have a blast.” The phone rang, breaking the spell. The time had come. She answered, “Hello?” “Makenzie, you’ve been a bad girl. So you left my car?”

Bound by Accident

149

“Yeah, it’s at my place. Charli’s got the keys.” “I hope you know this is not gonna work. When I see you, you’re in big trouble.” Mak decided it was easier to play stupid. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” “Yes you do.” With that said, Charyn hung up the phone. Mak didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t run forever. She had to go home sometime. But she did need the time she allotted for herself just to figure out what she wanted. After twenty-four hours with no sign from Charyn, she relaxed, assuming that he would leave her be. Even still, the second day and night she spent ducking in and out, scared to leave the house. But there was no sign of the Hummer or Charyn. The days with her mom were fun filled, but Mak had been going stir-crazy. She and her mom were only good for small bursts of time in confined spaces. After the newness of her visit would wear off, they’d bicker like siblings. They did everything they could to cram in as much as possible while they were together. They went to Carowinds Theme Park, they walked the university, and they went shopping. There was no escaping the reason she left. No matter where she went, she could smell him, Charyn. But after she didn’t see him anywhere, she just shrugged it off. Makenzie even went to the Dominican shop and had her hair blown out for the first time in a hot minute. The mass flowed to her bra hooks, and she even had a copper color highlighted in the front. She felt better and was ready to start her painting. When they made it home, Makenzie pleaded a headache to her mom, who wanted to eat out and hit some poetry bar after. Her mom bounced off, happy to show off her new hair and nails, which were lacquered in gel. Mak painted all afternoon, long into the night. After midnight, her mom came home and, after a quick hug, sashayed to bed. Mak was almost finished, but she struggled with the tug of one of his eyes. It kind of looked as if he were squinting or winking, rather

150

Jennifer Willows

than sleeping. She was disgusted and decided to work the rest of the surroundings and finish his face up later. Looking at Charyn’s sketch, she missed him. She missed his cock pummeling her inside out. So good, the flashbacks had her body begging, and she hadn’t come in days. The steady diet of orgasms was drug-like. Now she suffered from withdrawal, body craving his. She went to her car, wanting silence, her only companions her imagination and the soundtrack of her moans. Makenzie definitely didn’t want her mother to hear. It was late, so no one should be awake to see her. She pulled her robe open, nude beneath, and imagined Charyn and their last night together. She remembered his fingers, his cock. She groaned, pinching a breast with the right hand. She used her left to stroke her clit, thumb and pointer tugging the flesh. Similar to stroking a small penis, the pleasing motions had her car rocking slightly in the driveway. **** Charyn saw the object of his desires leave the cozy nest she called home. She only wore a short robe, and his first thought was how dare she leave the house in the flimsy garment. For any roving-eyed Peeping Tom to see all of her charms, no, his charms. The blue robe was terrycloth, but even at the distance he was parked he could see the cloth was old and thin from countless washings. Her hair was different, and she looked well rested. When she climbed in the car, he silently prayed for her to leave the driveway. If she did, game over. She was his, right now. But the car never moved, and he knew what she was up to. His woman had needs, and if her last days were like his, she was burning from the inside out. He could see she laid the seat back, but of course couldn’t watch her. The only clue as to what she was doing from his perspective was the rocking of the car. It was just a slight dip and

Bound by Accident

151

bounce, but enough to let Charyn know instead of guess what she was doing in the confines of the small compact. The last few days had been rough on him. His cock was painful and stayed hard for the last three days, and every woman he came across goggled when he went places. He had eyes for Makenzie only, wanting to lay in wait for the perfect time to catch her. He was going to show her who was boss, and it wasn’t her. He was in Charlotte when he called her, knew she had made it there. When he texted his brother, it was to send him to Charli, and he took Deven’s car from his house, a new yellow Challenger with black racing stripes. Due to the fact that she waited longer to leave than he estimated she would, he beat her there and spent a half hour cooling his heels and lying in wait. He watched her leave the car, looking sated, straight hair skimming her back. Charyn was jealous as hell, wanted to pull the straightened mass while drilling her from behind. She was to receive all her pleasures with him. He wanted to tell her when she could come, withholding until she snapped. He saw her smile, closing the door, shutting him out. Yes, he knew it seemed crazy, but he knew she was his. No other woman could do, would do for him, now that he had her. Removing his cock, he stroked it. He tugged at his unending erection until he came, head leaned back and gritting his teeth. Charyn remembered the warning he gave her before he took her. He told her that once she made the choice to give in to him, he wasn’t going to allow her to take it back. Charyn made his way back to the penthouse suite he’d borrowed from an associate of his just for the purpose of catching his runaway woman, lingering on the thought that tonight was her last evening of purloined freedom. He sent Deven one last text message for the night, confirming his plans to recapture his wily woman were completed. Just before dawn, Charyn left his hotel room the same way he exited it the last few days, cock hard and stiff. But today would end differently. Today she was coming home, with him. When Charyn

152

Jennifer Willows

showed up at Makenzie’s childhood home, he was ready. He sat there lost in thought, just up the street. A knock on the window broke his concentration. It was Ms. Stafford, and she was looking at him. He rolled the window down. “Would you like to have a chat?” she said, eyes squinted in the early light. “Yes, ma’am, I would.” He got out of the car, following her into the house. She took him to the back sunroom, screened in to keep the vermin out. She made a pot of coffee for him and tea for herself. He waited to see what she knew, and where she wanted their conversation to go. She didn’t waste time or mince words. But her tone was polite, in the way only a southern lady’s was. “So, what is it you want from my daughter?” She was going to be his mother-in-law soon. No way could he say what was really on his mind. “I want her to give us a chance.” He saw no need to prevaricate, and she would see through any lie he told. He could see that in her eyes, the same ones Mak would wear in her late years. So she got the abridged version, the only rendition acceptable to utter before the mother of his lover. “Why do you want her? I’ve seen you every day since she got here. I knew you were here when you called Tuesday. You’re no spy. I know you were here before she was.” “Yes, Ms. Stafford, I was. The morning Mak left, I knew she was going to go. She was skittish, and I wanted to give her just a bit of space. That’s why I didn’t approach her before. As to what I want from her, that’s simple. Everything. The same thing I want to give her.” “Hmm…I like you, Charyn. I knew there was something between you when I met you. Before you even came in the house, I could see something different in her. A possibility that was unlocked. But that doesn’t give you license to stalk people.”

Bound by Accident

153

“I know what it looks like, but I just couldn’t watch her walk away. She is mine, and I am hers,” Charyn said, speech simple. “So what was your plan? I know you didn’t come here on a whim. Your type has plans for your backup plans.” “Yes, and suffice to say, she’s going to understand that we belong together. No other, for me or her.” Clapping, Sharon stood. “I think you should get the answers to why she left, the real reason. If things are going as I’m seeing them, you may as well call me mom.” He grinned, standing. **** Makenzie woke, feeling better than she had in days. Her body felt less needy after the orgasm last night. When she rolled to the side and saw the time, she decided to get up before her mother came to do it. Lord knows her mom was a prankster and would wake her up with a pot of cold water or banging a pot and pan together. She lingered a few minutes in the shower, and chose not to dress for the moment. She was on vacation and may as well vegetate in her nightclothes as long as she could before going back to business casual when the doctor released her to go to work. Before padding downstairs, she tugged on her favorite robe and brushed her hair. Charyn was sitting on the couch, like he was at home, when Mak came down. She thought she was dreaming, as she had for the last three days. Even when waking she imagined she saw him, so she walked past his mirage, through the kitchen. It wasn’t until she realized her imagination had added her ruined lace panties in his shirt pocket that she dropped the mug and walked back. He just looked at her, as if she were a naughty schoolgirl. He shook a finger at her, then stood up and escorted her back to the kitchen, seating her at the dinette set. He cleaned the broken mug off the floor in quick motions

154

Jennifer Willows

of a broom and dustpan. Finished, he strolled back and sat down, question in his eyes. “Why did you leave me, Makenzie?” “Because I was scared…I’m not looking for a grand passion, Charyn. I just wanted a normal life with a man that I would be okay living without if he left me.” “You would walk from this? I never have met a more contradictory woman. In bed, you give me every fiber of passion you hold inside. Then hide your heart? Let me tell you a story.” “Sure…” “There was a girl named Tami. She was a socialite princess, spoiled beyond belief. She owned much and wanted more. When she met a man she wanted, she suckered him into proposing. She hid her real self, and everyone saw the snake under her skin but the man. One day she decided the man had served his purpose as arm candy, since he didn’t make a good lackey, and broke it off. Only she made the mistake of attempting to sleep with the man’s brother. The brothers patched their relationship, but it was never the same.” “Oh wow…” what could she say to that? She knew as a rational adult all men were not her father. But her heart was much harder to convince to let go of the baggage from her past. “Yeah, and if I’m willing, why can’t you be?” “I just want to take it slow…” “Nah, you just want a chance to build some bricks around that chip on your shoulder.” “No…It’s not like that.” “Then what is it like?” His brow was quirked once again. Damn, it seemed like she was always getting that look for one reason or another. But she mulishly kept silent, as nothing she said would satisfy him. “Nothing to say, Makenzie, cat got your tongue?” Fuck. She was in trouble. In for a penny, in for a pound, and Charyn seemed like he was ready for his due. She looked away from him and pretended to be lost in thought, hoping vainly some excuse

Bound by Accident

155

could come to mind to save her skin. Instead of excuses, when she looked up she told him the truth. “If you make me fall for you and leave, you would be all right. Charyn, you could have any woman you want. Why me? What makes me so special that you would stay by my side and be content with just me for a lifetime? There are thousands of normal couples who can’t keep it together. The seven-year itch is down to three now. So tell me what you want, and let’s see if I’ll believe it after only a week.” His face was incredulous, and Makenzie saw a flash of anger for the first time in his eyes. “Makenzie, you think so little of me, of yourself? You are beautiful in every way possible. You made my heart beat again, when I walked around like the living dead for years. What gave you the idea that I am not man enough to know when I’ve met The One?” He thought she was The One? What was so bad was that she sensed the same. Makenzie felt her heart stutter and resume beating. The pace of the skipping organ was ridiculous, and she was sure she was seconds from having a stroke. The idea of a soul mate in this day and age was ridiculous, that was a fairy tale spun for little girls. She scooted her chair back too quickly and nearly fell backwards. Charyn’s quick reflexes saved her from injury by halting the tumble with a hand catching the chair midway. She still scrambled from the seat and he followed her, stalking her as she backpedaled across the kitchen. When she was trapped with her back to the wall, he plastered his frame against hers and clenched the freshly straightened hair in one fist, arching her head back. He left her nowhere to look but at him. “You didn’t answer my question.” But she was saved from responding when she heard her mother, chirping about upstairs. She was louder than normal, and Makenzie assumed it was to warn them she was planning on coming downstairs. Charyn released the hank of hair he clutched and backed up two steps,

156

Jennifer Willows

just enough to give a pretense of respectability, though not enough to break the invasion of her personal space. Moments later, her mom walked down and raised an eyebrow. She hugged Mak and Charyn both, claiming she had an early appointment. For what, Mak would love to know. They made plans to go to the nursery for a cherry blossom tree seedling and mulch. But that was it. She looked at her mom, and Mak saw her wink before she shut the front door behind her. What was she going to do now? Even her mother approved of the man. **** Charyn watched Makenzie fidget her hands nervously. He was glad she understood the severity of the situation. Especially after the wink Ms. Stafford made on her exit, showing her daughter that she gave him the USDA stamp of approval. He watched her pick at her invisible hangnail and sip distractedly at her coffee. When she sipped the last dregs, he stood, and motioned for her to do the same. Since Makenzie’s mom was kind enough to leave them alone, he could get started with a reprimand for her bad behavior. He walked her to the back of the house to the sunroom. He sat her on the wicker chaise, pulling a scarf from his pocket. He pulled it around her eyes, tying it in back of her head, stating only, “Your punishment starts now and will last until sunrise on Monday.” He stepped away, watching her fidget, and Makenzie showed her nerves were getting to her as she bit a pinky nail to a near-raw nub. He just watched her for five minutes, letting her get used to being blind. She started chewing on the thumbnail as Charyn walked to the chaise and slung her over one shoulder. She gasped and shuddered against him. Yes, the move was caveman, but in the moment Charyn was closer to that than twenty-first-century male.

Bound by Accident

157

He took her outside, letting the weak warmth from the sun tingle against their skin. An oak tree along the six-foot-tall fence had a perfect branch, and inspiration hit. A handful of swipes from his Swiss Army knife presented him with a slim switch. He sat on a bench by the small group of dogwoods in the back and positioned her over his knee. “Do you know why we are here, Makenzie?” “I left?” “Close. Not only did you run from me, but you lied to me, and came without me present last night.” “I didn’t lie to—how did you know about last night?” “You lied to me by omission. Remember one thing if nothing else Makenzie. I know everything, especially when it comes to you. Do you remember your safe word?” “Yes, asparagus.” “Good. You were going to get fifteen strikes, five for each day you were away. But your poor response just now has earned you another five.” Makenzie trembled, goose bumps raised, and he noted the rash of prickled skin covered most her body. Exactly what he was looking for. Charyn wanted her just a hair afraid. She’d earned it. If she knew what was good for her, she would beg him, starting now, for alms. Although at this point she wasn’t getting any of his cock, if it weren’t for the little control he had left he’d fuck her blind, deaf, dumb, and stupid. Lord knows, he had been hard for so many long hours. To be exact, he’d waited nearly eighty torturous, blue-balled, stiff hours for this. If he wasn’t careful, he may just break down and fuck her like a starving animal anyway. Any patience he had was at an end. In fact, he expended the remaining shred on her mother. If nothing else, Ms. Sharon was a cool customer, and as a grown man it was humbling. “And you cannot come. Do you understand, Makenzie?” “Yes, master, I do.”

158

Jennifer Willows

Charyn was so grateful he had her back in his arms that he only stroked her skin at first. Tugging the worn robe upwards, her ass angled across his lap. She was so beautiful, and he couldn’t help but admire every curve of her toasted brown skin. After he reacquainted himself with the feel of her, he started the first in a long list of punishments she’d earned the last days. He knew the first strike came out of nowhere for her. As the last time, her response was hungry even through the pain of her punishment. Makenzie bucked on his lap, and the heat from her pussy licked at his thigh. His cock was straining the fabric of his pants painfully and digging into her belly. Charyn watched her squirm blindly into his erection and knew she was as desperate for him as he was for her. Good. He wanted her to realize what she was attempting to throw away. **** The first stroke was liquid fire, stealing her breath. The lash bit into her buttock. By the next, her memory stirred. By the fifth, she knew what he used to whip her. A switch, of all things. She danced, squirming in his lap. She was hard pressed not to rub against the erection jabbing her. When the final lash hit, her ass and clit were sore, both hot and swollen. He broke the silence, rubbing her with unguent to relieve some of the sting from the lashes. “How did you like your switching?” Mak bit her lip. “It was a throwback, that’s for sure.” The master next to her laughed. “I thought so, too.” He removed the blindfold, and she blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to fullstrength light. Charyn asked her, “You ready to go home now? I’ve got a few things planned for you this weekend.” He dropped the fresh-cut switch on the ground, extending his hand to her. She accepted it, responding, “I am.”

Bound by Accident

159

When she made her way upstairs and checked her phone, Makenzie decided to send a message to her mother about her early departure. She was only planning on staying one more day anyway, and their only plan was to pick up the seedlings from the nursery. Her mother must have been waiting to hear from her as the response time was unusually quick. The seven-word reply from her mother, get him he’s yours for the taking, was stunning to say the least. If mom only knew what was about to happen to her little girl… After bundling together her gear and clothes, Makenzie packed her painting carefully. Wanting to keep it secret until it was finished, she put it in a box faceup with the container covered in newspaper and taped shut. Charyn had her follow him out, and before hitting the highway, they stopped for gas. He used his debit card and had both cars filled to the brim so they could hit the road. Charyn was taking a detour, though, as he went to UNC-C, and he had her step out of the car. Mak was really confused why they stopped out of the way, but kept silent. Charyn explained, “You are riding back with me.” “How is that supposed to work? This car isn’t gonna drive itself, you know, although the parking assistant is pretty awesome.” “I purchased a driver, and they are going to fly back from ILM here.” “Wha…” How in the heck did he just purchase a driver? Not to mention the expense of plane tickets. Makenzie knew she was in trouble with a capital T. “Yeah, just you and me, with three hours of open road.” “That’s gotta be expensive, Charyn. Can’t I just drive it back myself?” “Nope. Part of your punishment is going to be in this car, and I’m not giving up three-plus hours of my weekend.” To say the least, Mak was stunned. She wasn’t anticipating this turn of events. What was he going to do to her while they were driving? The question had no easy answer, and the thoughts were cut short when two young males came to the car. Charyn introduced them

160

Jennifer Willows

as Bill and Teddy, and the easygoing pair hopped in her car. They followed them on the road, but after the first half hour, the pair was out of sight. The Challenger was just that fast, and she was advised that the two were under orders to take at least five hours to get to their destination. Charyn stopped on the side of the road, looked at her and she peered back using her peripheral vision, not knowing what he wanted to do with her. “Take off the bra, Makenzie.” Eyes bulging, she followed his instructions, pulling the bra through her armholes of her T-shirt. He took the garment and set it aside. Next, he took a Swiss Army knife from the dash, the blade honed to a sharp edge He sliced her Charlotte Hornets ringer tee down the front in one vicious swipe of the blade. Her breath caught. Could she trust him not to hurt her? She already knew the answer, and sat still. Next, he took her denim skirt and pulled it above her hips, exposing her spandex teal boy shorts. Those he cut off her as well, stuffing spandex in his pocket. Charyn watched her hotly, his hazel eyes predominantly green today, and told her, “We are going to listen to the radio and let fate decide how much you are punished along the ride. I will choose a popular station and any time a Jay-Z song plays, you have to masturbate. If Lady Gaga plays, then you have to go down on me. If a trucker honks during any point, you have to use a free hand to pinch your nipples.” He smirked, the smile wicked and full of himself. She loved it, loved him, though she couldn’t say it yet. It was too soon to give him that added power over her. He tied the ripped shirt at its base, farm girl style. It barely covered her breasts, the nipples waiting to spill free to any person who thought to look. Setting off again, they hit the road, the car a blur of bumblebee stripes. The radio played popular music, but none of the artists he mentioned played for the first half hour. When “Party Life” came on, Mak was hyped and, dropping her hand low, she rubbed her wet pussy lips. By the time the song ended, she dripped wetly on the

Bound by Accident

161

leather bucket seat. Panting, she glanced over, a large SUV keeping pace. She could see the driver wink at her, one hand on the wheel. She could guess what he was doing from the smile on the male driver’s face. Over the next hour she masturbated twice and sucked Charyn off three times. He was so hot, the last time he pulled onto the shoulder, and she bobbed her head as the wheels stopped. He held her head close, bucking his hips, the car jerking to a stop. She finished him off there on the shoulder, the cars flying by them, tires screaming on the pavement. He gripped her straightened hair, crumpling the silken length in both fists. His orgasm almost triggered hers, and she knew she would earn more punishment if she came and disappointed him. Her thighs clenched, holding back the peak by the skin of her teeth. “Under the seat there are two toys. Pull them out.” She responded immediately, items in her hands. She recognized both. They were the Ben-Wa balls and nipple clamps from her basket. The chains connecting the clamps were different, longer, almost three feet or so. The others may have had a ten-inch gap between clamps. After seeing the instruments of her torture, Makenzie knew she couldn’t take anymore. Her nerves were bad. Unable to handle anymore stimuli, she gritted her teeth, in suspense as to what would play on the radio next. Everything around her was a stimulus. The air whipped against her skin through the window. The car engine purred, the vibrations stroking her clit when she wasn’t. The seat was sticky with her juices, and she had a suspicion the leather was ruined. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at all. The only focus her body had was pleasure. Charyn didn’t help matters any. He just looked at her. He gave more attention to her exposed nipples than the road. She didn’t even care if he crashed the beautiful specimen of a muscle car. She just needed to come so badly her teeth gritted and she swore to herself that she could make it, just another half hour. But when they hit the bridge into town, he used his secret weapon.

162

Jennifer Willows

He stopped at the light. Since he was in the right lane, only pedestrians could see her. There were a few, but most didn’t even look askance at her nudity. Of the few that saw her, two made her skin crawl, and she never wanted to meet either in a dark alley. Charyn gave his next command before the light changed. “Take the balls and push them inside yourself.” She complied, and the car leapt forward, shoving them all the way inside her. “Now pinch those pretty chocolate nipples for me. When they are hard, slip on those clamps for me.” She tried, but she didn’t understand the mechanisms. Seeing her confusion, he simply pinched the padded teeth open and let go. Her back arched. She was on fire, and not in a good way either. She didn’t see how any woman could enjoy that. But Charyn didn’t seem alarmed. He just took the long length of chain in hand. Her chains tugged each time he shifted gears, and in the heart of town many stops and starts had her nipples throbbing. While at first the sensations were painful, the pain ebbed into ridiculous pleasure over time. She saw why a woman could subject herself to the physical degradation in this era. While her mind was distracted by the nipple clamps, her body was losing the fight. The Ben-Wa balls were insidious, working magic slowly. The vibrations from the engine had her rocking back and forth as the movement affected the weighted balls. Mak wasn’t going to win this one. She knew it. She was fighting the good fight, but the chime she distantly heard from the Ben-Wa was ticking. The countdown measuring the moments until I explode.

Bound by Accident

163

Chapter 13: All or Nothing Makenzie was catatonic, lost in the pain of denying herself. Her hands were red, with half moons dotting her palms, and her lips were raw and bruised from biting her lips. She was lifted from the lowlaying seat and carried through the threshold. When Charyn stood her just inside the foyer, she swayed. He pulled her back in his arms, removing first one clamp, then the other. Mak cried out, the sound ringing, a cacophony. He spun her, facing her away from him only to cross his arms around her. Cupping one hand between her thighs, he asked, “Are you ready to come?” “Oh god yes…please.” Her response was breathless. He held her just a moment longer. Constricting the free arm against her belly, he pressed. The compression freed the objects, expelled them into the waiting hand. She groaned. **** “Good girl.” Charyn couldn’t believe how good she was. She had held off, and now he would reward her valiant efforts. He stripped, right there behind her, unbuttoning the cream pinstripe shirt. Tossing it, he undid the jeans, dropping them to the floor unheeded. He stepped out of the mass at his feet, jeans and loafers. “Turn and face me.” Makenzie did as requested, looking him in the eye, head craned up. He pulled her flesh to flesh, their damp skin plastered together. Lifting her, Charyn brought her eye level, prompting her to wrap her legs around his waist. She did, and he

164

Jennifer Willows

rewarded her with a heated kiss to her pussy with his cock. Skimming her sugared walls, he filled her completely. She arched, wailing, pleading to let go and come. Charyn was throbbing and near stroking out from lack of blood in the brain, as all was in his angry, swollen cock, but ready to take her that one bit further. He gave her a challenge. “Do you think you can make it to bed?” Makenzie only responded with a shake of head, a negative. “If you do, I promise you’ll never regret it.” He watched her drop her head, face showing she hoped she could hold on. The stairs never seemed so insurmountable to him either. He took the brief series of steps to get them to the stairwell and banister, even as her body begged him to let go and fuck her like a mad man against the wall, but he wasn’t going to give in. As Charyn took the first stair, the trembling wreck in his arms shuddered. He knew if she gave in, he would, too. To distract her, he used a flat hand, spanking her once, then twice. He jogged two stairs, smacking twice. Each time she would jerk then fall still, biting his shoulder. The pattern continued to the landing, and Makenzie seized tight around him, preparing. They strode the few feet, panting. Gaining the bedroom, he took the last steps necessary to reach her last phase. Five. Moving to the edge of the bed, he stopped by the sidewall and sat down. Charyn pulled a silk tie from the nightstand, wrapping it closely to her wrists. He tied the silken bonds off in a large bow, making her a present to use for his pleasure. He leaned her back, taking the left leg from around him, and spun her to face the wall. Just earlier in the week blank, the wall now featured full-length mirrors paneling the expanse. He saw the look in her eyes and knew she saw herself, disheveled and in sensual distress. His cock was so engorged, Charyn knew his lover could feel every vein landscaping him, and she was only holding back her orgasm by a fine thread.

Bound by Accident

165

He smiled at her in the mirror, wicked. “You know, Makenzie, this is a good look on you. Now I want you to see.” “See what, us together?” “Not just that, there’s more to us, and you know it. I want you to see the way I worship your body, my temple.” His lips cocked up smugly. She gasped as he flexed his knees, bouncing her, using the pop of hips to propel her forward. Makenzie went along with him, twisting her lower legs around his spread calves. He wrapped his arms around her, one crossing her chest, strapping her to him. The other leashed her across the belly, tight. His mouth attacked the shell of an ear, moist lips sucking. Exhaling, Charyn teased her nape, hair scattered. He looked at her and wanted, although he was already as far in her as he could get. But he needed more, and she was going to give it to him. He teased her nipples, featherlight brushes, and bade her to watch. He cupped the weight in a broad palm, measuring by feel. He bucked wildly, her bound hands flailing out of her control. Charyn saw her peer at him through the curtain of hair, eyes dark in the mirror. He was taking and she gave. She was helpless, wet and fisted around him, impaled, and he loved every iota of it. Charyn saw Makenzie wanted so badly to let go. “Come for me.” And just like that she did. She tossed her head backwards, and hair slapping him in the face accompanied her wailing cries. He was behind her, watching as she peaked and stared him in the eye. Charyn could feel her coming apart. He was there, too. Her clinging heat scalded him, forced him to take one arm from around her and smooth the hair from her face. Make her see herself, and him. “Look at us, Makenzie, how perfect we fit.” His tone was sultry. He could tell she saw it, too, when her skin flushed even redder. “I want you to come for me, just one more time.” Her expression made him smile through the lust firing his blood. He couldn’t stop

166

Jennifer Willows

digging inside her, she felt too good. Too delicious, and tighter than the single virgin he’d deflowered years ago as a teenager. She didn’t speak, just hissed back, long inhale whistling through her clenched teeth. “Just once more, feels so good, baby.” His cock dug in her deeper as he stroked every sensitive spot within her willing, wet pussy. Her legs clenched his tightly, and she bucked back harder. Back bowed, Makenzie called his name, the word begging him for a repeat. The second pass was so exquisite he felt the fine hairs covering her stand on end. There was no holding back from him then, and by the third stroke, she looked shocked to be coming again. Charyn had to let go of the pressure. His breath hissing, words cursing her. His cock pulsed in time with his heartbeat, giving her his seed, eyes slits, nearly closed. “Fuck, Makenzie.” He rolled them over, Makenzie under him, and now they were face to face. Their breaths were choppy, chests heaving, and a glossy sheen covered their skin. He could only look at her, delicious curves, rich brown skin. He wanted to eat her within an inch of her life again. Charyn kissed her, a meeting of mouths, tasting tongues. Mak could only lie passively, hands still bound, trapped between them. Arching his back away from her, he pulled the captive extremities over his head. She beamed at him, showing every pearly tooth. He kissed the cheesy grin. His had to match hers. He untied her hands, and they napped, his grasp holding her tight. When they woke, night had fallen, and he heard Mak’s belly growl angrily at her backbone. Charyn took her downstairs, each still nude, skin salty and slick. They did a quick raid of the kitchen, scaring up a few different cheeses, a bottle of pinot noir, crackers, fruit, and leftover rotisserie chicken. He chased her upstairs, foodstuffs held close. Charyn and Makenzie lingered over their evening meal, slowly feeding each other, and chatter interspersed their playful banter. When their bellies were full, they attempted to catch grapes in their mouths,

Bound by Accident

167

flung from across the bed. They stayed nude well into the evening and cavorted, the bedroom their personal Eden. Charyn, being the man he was, had to put his foot in his mouth. It started with a simple question. “Makenzie, why did you leave?” “I told you why, at Mom’s.” “I think there’s more than you told me.” He knew there was. For whatever reason he scared her, at least that much was clear. “What else does there need to be?” “I think you left because you don’t think you measure up to some standard that I am supposed to have that doesn’t exist. You broke the mold, Makenzie, no other.” **** Makenzie sputtered, infuriated he saw through her. She felt pathetic, and lashed out. “Of course it has to be all about you. Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I don’t want you forever?” Makenzie knew she was being an ass, but he was just a smidge too narcissistic for her tastes. Charyn’s eyes went dark and narrow, and she knew she pushed him too far. “So it’s that, huh? Stop lying to yourself, even if you can’t be honest with me.” “You’re not the only thang smokin’, Charyn Moreland.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to run me away or manipulate me, Makenzie Christine. I’m a real man, not an imitation, and you can’t push me away. The first day we made love I told you that you weren’t going to walk away without trying to make us happen. I plan on us working well together. Do you really think you are the only one with emotions here? When you left…it hurt.”

168

Jennifer Willows

She snarled her nose up at him, lip curled. Goodness, he was too much for her. Truthfully, she felt something for him, a lot more than she wanted to admit. “Where’s Bill and Ted with my car?” “In the hotel, they fly out in the morning.” He grinned, continuing, “You won’t get away that easy. I’m getting my full pound of flesh this weekend.” “I just want my stuff, that’s all.” She knew that she was being bratty and childish, but she just wanted to distract him. After all the hedonism, she couldn’t look at him straight without her cheeks burning. She loved him, was getting to know him, and she liked it all too much. Liked him too much, and everything about him turned her on. Makenzie came to the hard conclusion that she was sprung after a handful of days. She was head over heels for a white man. “Run a bath for us, and I’ll throw the trash out.” Charyn kissed her and helped her stand up. She stood, forgotten grape halves sliding from her skin. Makenzie padded to the en suite bath, turning the water on full blast. She found a bottle of bubbles and poured them in, emptying the contents in the tub. Finding two bath sheets, she sat them on the sink. Mak was unsure of how she would handle Charyn. He was too intense, and she had second thoughts. But she knew if she walked away, she would regret it for the rest of her natural life. No man would ever compare to him. No other could measure up against him. No man would be able to make her melt the way he did. No man would chase her, and she never wanted to be caught by another either. Her thoughts were interrupted as her lover sauntered in, eyes only for her. “Bill and Teddy dropped your stuff off.” “Oh really? Did they leave the car?” “Nope, it’s going back to the rental place.” “But I’ve still got three days left!” “So? You’re spending those days, and the rest god gives you, with me.”

Bound by Accident

169

“You would try the patience of Job, Charyn. I need some transportation, and you can’t hold me hostage forever.” “Want to bet on it? I promise you’ll love my brand of captivity.” “No real woman in this day and age loves slavery, Charyn.” “Yes they do. Women have just been trained by history that they aren’t supposed to. So most just don’t admit it.” “Don’t be a chauvinist. It’s not PC.” “The relationship with a man and woman never is.” With those words, he climbed in the frothing water, pulling her in with him. He pulled the hair from around her face and twisted it, using an elastic band to hold the makeshift bun secure. Continuing, his tone was low, melodic, enthralling. “Makenzie, no matter how far women come, they were created to crave a firm hand. The strongest woman will submit, if the right man gives her what she needs, and is strong enough to make her love it.” Mak didn’t respond. What could she say without lying? She was strong, and every man before him fell flat, seemed wrong for her somehow. Not as if there were many, but some guys found her okay to look at. She always turned them away, until he fell in her lap. Changing the subject, she inquired about something else she thought strange. “Why in the heck do you have hair barrettes, baldy?” “I put more thought into this weekend than you’ll need planning our wedding.” “Get your mind right. We ain’t getting married.” Snorting, Mak washed her arms with sponge. “Fine, you don’t want to plan our wedding? I’ll do it.” Makenzie guffawed as the vision of him surrounded by wedding magazines, place settings, and gown fabric had her weak. “See, you thought I couldn’t be politically correct.” “But men don’t care about that stuff!” Mak was still laughing. “You’d be surprised.” Charyn’s tone was gruff, as if the statement were hard to admit.

170

Jennifer Willows

“I already am, boo.” He took the abandoned sponge, still sudsy, and finished washing them clean. “Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I can’t be domestic. Couples who love each other fill whatever need is there, and are equals. I can’t ask you to do what I am unwilling to do and vice versa. The only thing that I cannot do is bear our children. But I will take delight and time in making them with you. I would be there when they are given life, and be there to raise them.” He observed her, seeming to attempt to decipher her face and know what she thought. She looked back, but his words had humbled her. She accused Charyn of many things, making mountains out of molehills, and contriving stumbling blocks along the way, but she was the problem. He had no reservations or hesitation, and he had just as much to lose if he invested in their relationship, too. His speech floored her. The two of them married with two-point-five children and a dog. Mak never thought it would be like this, that she would be crazy for anyone. She was a sensible woman, and although she was an artist, she was a realist first. **** Charyn saw in her face the emotions playing through her eyes, flitting by so quick he couldn’t identify each with certainty. She would admit they were made for each other. Mentally rubbing his hands together, he thought about the coming hours, and tomorrow. It was late, and he wanted to play some more. He leaned in, kissing the tip of her nose. Charyn could feel Makenzie thinking. She still had reservations, and that was all right. Any sane woman would, especially given how long they had known each other. But she was his, their futures were twain. He would show her. He just had to make sure he gave everything, all the fibers of his being, and he was prepared to do just

Bound by Accident

171

that. By the time he was done, he would crumble her defenses, the brick and mortar she used to hide herself. She could hide from anyone else. Anyone but me. He climbed out the tub, pulling her hand to guide her. They toweled off and walked in the bedroom. Charyn stood behind her, nude and damp in the collage of mirrors. He looked at her, seeing the mix of hot lust and tenderness exposed in his eyes. She responded, “What?” His stare was heated, as were the words spoken, “You don’t know how beautiful I find you.” “Why?” Even after the last hours of love, she still didn’t get what he saw in her. “Unless we leave the house, you’re not getting anything to conceal that sexy body, unless it’s me.” Charyn looked at his arms and what they supported. “Come on…Nothing at all? Can I get even a T-shirt?” “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to keep you warm.” He watched her pant and teeth gnaw at her lower lip, and continued with, “Just look at you, so soft, feminine, and seductive. Look at my hands on your skin.” He clenched the arms splayed across her skin as her eyes lowered as he commanded. He had his arms around her, shelves for her breasts, propping them up. They were beautiful together, and the two of them were more as one than they could be apart. The blend of colors complemented naturally, both wearing a bronzed flush over their skin. “That’s you, Charyn. I’m the plain Jane in this relationship.” “My cock wouldn’t stay this hard for a plain Jane. Do you need another lesson so fast? Apparently, I’m not getting through that thick, stubborn head of yours, if that’s the case.” He saw her shake her head quickly, and the top-knot bobbled from its perch. “No, I think the last lesson sufficed.” Her shy smile was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

172

Jennifer Willows

“See that it does. Next time, I may not be so lenient with you.” She remained mute for a moment and Charyn grinned. “That was being lenient?” “It was, I could have denied you an orgasm, but you had several with me so far tonight. Didn’t you?” “Yes, I did. You made me wait for hours, though.” “Makenzie, I could have withheld them from you for the entire weekend. But you are not trained to my liking yet. For that reason only, I decided to torture you for a handful of hours instead of the days you deserved.” “The entire weekend?” Charyn smirked at the skeptical face she made with her rhetorical query. “You’ll love it when we get there. The intensity of coming is proportional to the amount of time it’s delayed.” Her face was even more incredulous than before, if possible. As if she couldn’t understand how delaying satisfaction could come with a pleasure in itself. “Imagine how the sexual tension would feel after long hours of need, how it would burn through you. When you came the first time today, the orgasm was the best you ever had. Admit it.” He watched the heated look flit across her face, as if she were having a flashback of coming in his lap in front of the same bank of mirrors they currently faced. “Yes, it was. I’ve never…” She stopped, the words trailing off to nothing. “Never what, Makenzie? Come so hard in your life?” She nodded and dropped her flushed face. He presumed it was an attempt to hide her embarrassment. “Don’t be ashamed of anything we do together. We are two consenting adults and free to choose how we express our love.” ****

Bound by Accident

173

Love? He said love, but did that mean sex or l-o-v-e? She was too chicken to ask him to clarify. His body screamed sex to hers, but she needed more from him than that. She wanted to know what made him tick. If she was going to fall for him and make life complicated, then she wanted the total package. So far she knew he was well off, funny, fantastic in bed, and a good cook. Not to mention sensitive. He did everything well. At no time had she seen him appear to be in over his head. Geez, the man even drove his car and made shifting gears seem sexy. But no person was perfect. There had to be something wrong with him. Was he crazy? “Can we talk? I’d like to know you better.” “Of course, that’s what the weekend is about. It’s for us to take the time to see why we’re so compatible. Come with me.” He took her hand, and the couple went downstairs. When they got there, he sat her on a soft rug by the fireplace, a box in front of her. It was covered in black leather, glossy. He opened it, taking out a small remote, using it to turn the gas fire on. Digging back into the box, he took out an old, thin paperback book, a box of cards, and a small flask. The lid went back on the top, sealing it from Mak’s curious eyes. Her inquiring nature got the best of her, and she had to ask. “What’s all of that?” “Thought you’d never ask.” His lips tilted upwards in a subtle smile. “The book is a small tome I enjoy and thought to read with you. The cards are a game to play, called Phaze 10. Last but not least, the flask is a salve. Now you can decide what you want to explore first.” Mak had no idea what she wanted to do, and ended up opting for the book. Of the three items, it was the most innocuous. But she was wrong, as she found out later. It was probably the most risqué and pointed of the three options. “How about the book?”

174

Jennifer Willows

“Good choice, I would have picked that, too.” His grin was mischievous. She found out why. It was a book of love poetry. Bringing her close to him, he opted to seat her in his lap. He spoke to her, cadence mesmerizing, as he interpreted the Lords Byron and Tennyson. As he recited more than read them from the pages, it was apparent he knew the poems and sonnets within the book better than the men who wrote them. “…thus much and more, and yet thou lov’st me not, And never wilt, Love dwells not in our will Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot To strongly, wrongly, vainly, love thee still.” Even long after he finished the stanza, she lingered over its meaning. The words in this selection were for her, Makenzie knew it. But was it really possible that he felt that way about her? That she couldn’t love him, that he felt their relationship was one-sided and unrequited? The same way she felt about him before she ran. But if his selections spoke to his feelings, she was an ass. He didn’t run, like her dad did, like she did. When she came back from her reveries, he was still reading. “…it is not worth the keeping: let it go; But shall it? answer, darling, answer, no And trust me not at all or all in all.” It was hard for her to give as much trust as he sought. He didn’t just desire her. She saw he needed to possess her. All or nothing. She noted that Charyn would read a passage, and in the same breath look at her while reciting another, until the volume was finished. Even more unusual about the renditions were the moments he recalled the words from his memory as he quoted.. He would tilt his eyes away from the pages and speak to her as if the words were his and crafted solely for her. Pointed phrases aimed at her defenseless heart and female vanity desirous of love and affection. Mak listened, enthralled, hanging on each word, couplet, and

Bound by Accident

175

metaphor. When he was done, he asked her what she thought of the selections he chose for her. “Did you enjoy them?” His voice was raw, as if he were hoarse. Makenzie was speechless. She never paid much attention to poetry, since her skills were not in the written word, but were more physical. But his voice gave each word value, giving the stanzas new life. It was attention she never paid to spoken word aside from music in her whole life. She told him as much, and kissed the arm wrapped across her fluttering heart. He sat the volume aside, breaking the fragile moment with his movements. “Thank you, it’s one of my favorites. Want to play cards?” Mak laughed, nodding yes. The poetry had left her with too much to think about. It changed the way she saw them, and she was grateful to have a moment to let go of the heavy reflections she burdened her mind with. Scooting across from her, he took a moment to teach her the basics. Each hand was different, and the game spurred much laughter and brought competitive instincts to the fore. By the last hand, Charyn bested her. She hadn’t passed the ninth phase, and he won by a landside. Makenzie, infuriated, flung the cards, spraying his chest with them. He laughed, telling her to be a better loser. After they were done, he picked up the salve and a small throw blanket from the nearby chaise. “Lay back on the throw blanket for me, facedown.” Mak did as he politely asked, laying on the soft microfiber, patterned in a Scottish plaid. She turned her head, facing the faux fire. The warmth was cozy and played a kaleidoscope of shadows across her exposed skin. Charyn straddled her hips, his thick member a heavy weight cradled in the seam of her thighs. He poured the viscous unguent in his hands and rubbed them together. The initial pace of his hands was slow, kneading motions at her shoulders intended to carry her away. The scent was amazing, patchouli and everything earthy, calling to her.

176

Jennifer Willows

The heat from his thick hands scalded her, burning every nerve ending awake. **** Charyn meant every word he said to her. Even though the words were not his, they captured how he felt about her. There was no reason for her to love him. He wanted to be worthy of the honor so badly, he refused to accept that the woman he was mad for didn’t feel the same way about him. Before Makenzie his life was black and white, and she added color and spice. It was possible to fall in love on sight, his parents had. She just didn’t see that, and wanted to make it about lust and need alone. Although that was part of what he felt for her, there was so much more. He watched Makenzie relax under his touch, melting boneless into the floor. As he massaged each muscle group, the firelight played across the skin beneath his hands. Riveting, the sight of her had him hardening before he knew it. A feeble attempt was made to calm his libido with thoughts of football stats. His hunger for her could disrupt his plans, and he wanted everything to be perfect. He required her relaxed and ready for what he planned next. After he finished massaging the spread, luscious body before him, Charyn scooped his woman up. He carried her upstairs, headed for the attic. She hadn’t seen the space yet, and he deliberately glossed over it in her tour. He didn’t lie when he said it was unfinished. He just omitted a few salient facts about the space. The attic door had two entrances, one from outside and this one. The indoor entrance was not in the ceiling. Charyn opted to cut through the bedroom instead. It appeared as a normal closet, but the wall backing was a sliding door. The stairs needed to be finished, and were still just raw untreated wood. But he only put these in two weeks ago. It seemed to be serendipity, how he met his dream woman less than a week after installing them. The house was ninety-nine percent done. Just

Bound by Accident

177

finishing the stairs and landscaping would complete it. Almost five years worth of hard work, and now he was ready to outfit it with his family. Although it was just the two of them, soon enough they could gift themselves with children. When he bought the house, he could feel in his gut that it was perfect. Perfect for his family one day, and he could see them playing in the water. Bringing back junk shells and building sand castles, making memories filled with laughter. Like his childhood, only better. Charyn should have realized it at the time, but nowhere in the picture did he see the woman he was engaged to. That should have been a sign, but he was just too stubborn to admit his mistake and almost paid a hefty price for it. But Makenzie, he could see her fitting in perfectly. Their homes were similar, neutral and earthy. He was glad he met her, even if the circumstances at the time were not desirable. Otherwise, they may have never crossed paths, since their lives were too disparate. She didn’t work or live near him. He just happened to be on Seventeenth Street the day of her accident because he had a hankering for a poker game. He smiled to himself, thinking that it was almost ironic to think that he may have never met the woman of his dreams. After tonight, he would make sure that she would understand how fortuitous their chance meeting was. He knew Makenzie would have questions, especially about some of the articles he had laying about when she got a good look around. Reaching the top of the stairs, the space was dark, and only the barest of moonlight diffused by clouds and distance shone through. It was time to see if his chosen woman was able to accept all of him. If she could handle what it took to fully satisfy her needs and his.

178

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 14: Rope Trick Charyn watched her, his eyes already adjusted to the darkness. He could see her silhouette, framed in moonlight. She was an angel, his Madonna, to use for his own devilish ends. He wanted to show her all of him. The person no other had ever completely seen, since Master Johntu trained him in the exquisite art he was going to display for her now, the art of bondage. He had a mixed style, using both ancient Japanese shibari and modern western techniques. He wasn’t into whips or beatings, just the slide of silken skin, tortured by rope. He loved the look of a woman in bondage. The total surrender she gave a lover, allowing him to bind her with coarse fibers. It was one of the main reasons he and Tami were incompatible. She was unable to enjoy the art in any form, even shunning play handcuffs. Tami would have never had the patience to follow any part of this weekend. She loved to see and be seen. Tami didn’t even know he could cook. She never ate a single meal he made, just wanted to hit the new hot spots. For what? To eat a plate so small, he was starving every night? A year of that had had his belly aching and mind made up. The incident with Marques just confirmed what his gut already knew. She wasn’t the one for him. Now Charyn ached for an entirely different reason. The brownskinned beauty framed in moonlight gave his cock dozens of reasons to rise from slumber. She was perfect. Perfect for him, made for him, his. He wanted to own her, every part of her. He loved her hair, kinky mane so like her. Untamable locks, sexy curls with a life of their own. Even now, her hair, forced into a waterfall of silk, was beginning to

Bound by Accident

179

show its true state. He wanted to bind her, here and now, to him for good. He prowled over to her, knowing she was barely able to see him. Charyn was more than ready to fulfill the expectations his woman had. He could sense them lingering around her, mingled with clouds of lust and sexual fear. The mass of hair he braided up so it wouldn’t tangle in the ropes, then he blindfolded her, forcing her to trust his lead. His hands were gentle, smoothing her raised hairs and goose bumps. He started the basic karada, a rope dress, to harness her. The knots were all made to be simple and adjustable. For the first bondage garment he fitted her body with, he wanted to ease her into the construction and adjust it to her frame when he was done. He next fashioned a cherry crotch rope, basically a thong, from a smaller section of rope. With the apron-like top, he slipped it overhead, the weight of rope and knots smacking lightly against her skin. He used the double-coin knot he created as a halter, tying off the end so he didn’t choke her or create too much pressure. Pulling the sides of the apron around her, he tied them together, too. From there he adjusted the knot work to give the pressure on her most sensitive points. The knots, when done, dotted along the sides of her spine in the back, parallel to the ones in front. He twisted another section of her top, fitting it bra-like around her breasts. The cups fit perfectly due to the fact many hours of touching her gave his hands excellent muscle memory. The next part was her undergarment. It was simple, a six-inch-wide net knotted around her hips and small rope that would pass between her legs. He kneeled, tapping the tops of her feet, prompting her to lift them, stepping into the rope panty. He pulled them up over her thighs, adjusting in back to fit them properly. ****

180

Jennifer Willows

When Charyn initially brought Makenzie up to the attic, she found it difficult to adjust her eyes to the dimness. Being an artist was all about light, and she could barely focus on any of the poorly lit objects around her. Charyn placed her on a bench seat in the window. Light struggled to penetrate the shadows nearest her, creating a fragile halo in the haze of dark. She sat there impatiently, waiting and unsure of what was she was seeing. “Makenzie, turn and face the window.” The first words he spoke to her since arriving in the aboveground dungeon. His statement, baldly phrased, had her nervous. What would he do with her in the dark attic, with the moon the only witness? She got the answer soon enough. He took hair out of the tie, scattering the strands. Charyn’s hands were running through the mass, combing it. Next, he started tugging the strands into an intricate French braid. He used the tie to fasten the braided end, now falling between the blades of her shoulders. He caressed her nape with a stray thumb. Moving upward, he fisted the braid, tilting her head back, kissing her. “Stay there.” His voice was powerful, yet the tone was soft in the quiet of deep night as he rummaged through a nearby chest of drawers. Whatever he picked up was large, a huge bundle carried over one shoulder. When he came back to her side, he threaded a thin scarf through his fingers. Pulling it over her eyes, Charyn sealed off the limited vision she had. Makenzie was nervous, fidgeting, even after the bonemelting massage he gave her just minutes ago. She wasn’t sure where this was going, and the unknown had her leaping at every sound. Tree branches whistling, the surf caressing the beach, she heard and catalogued each noise. Charyn was behind her, heat radiating from his skin. She could feel him, her skin pricking at his nearness. Once Makenzie was outfitted in her rope tankini, she was terrified, unsure how to feel. She wasn’t even hogtied like Miri was at Dojo. But nevertheless, she felt as if she were going to pop out of her skin. The ropes were not extremely tight, but she felt constricted, as if

Bound by Accident

181

the ropes were metal chains binding her skin and shackles hampering her feet. The fear she felt seemed sexual in nature, not a genuine apprehension for her life. The trepidation was similar to a rollercoaster ride, fun and exciting. Finally done, he spoke to her. “How do you feel, Makenzie?” “I want to explode.” “Good or bad?” Charyn asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity. “Both. It’s bad in the fact that I’m bound, helpless. But it’s good for the same reasons. I can let go and not be responsible for anything except existing for your desires.” Charyn guided her, still blindfolded, to the center of the room. He stopped her where she needed to stand, a small rug hand-woven from a coarse natural fiber. Barefoot, the threads rasped against her toes. There was an audible rattling sound and the clacking of metal. He spoke, a terse, “Need to fix that.” She stayed silent, agreeing with him, as the noise was audibly harsh. Makenzie felt a tug against the front of her harness. She felt Charyn hooking her at the top of her bonds, between her breasts. Next, she felt more hooks, one on either side of her hips, both sides of her ribs. He tied a length of rope to the right ankle, pulling the limb behind her and securing it to the back of her harness with another series of knots. “What is your safe word?” She was silent at first, nearly deaf with the blood roaring in her ears. When he repeated the query she came to and tried to remember. “Asparagus…” “Good girl. If you become uncomfortable at all, I want you to use it. Don’t think I will be upset in any way if you need to do so. Okay?” “Yes, Master.” When he finished rigging her up, one leg was behind her in the air while she stood stork-like on one foot. The positioning made her lean forward at the waist and spread her toes to ground her body and keep from falling over. She was confused, not to mention nervous, and her

182

Jennifer Willows

sense of balance was off. The way she was half-resting and halfstanding had her equilibrium thrown out of whack. Mak let her mind go and melted into the awkward pose, mind finally clear, a yogi in her bondage. Every sense was sharper and dulled at the same time, leaving her stupefied as to how she could feel so natural in this moment as slave to her dominant lover. At random moments he would stroke a single finger over her skin, and she would shudder until able to control herself again. The scalding digit would find its way over a buttock only later to stroke the flexed knee or her nose. Between the caresses, his eyes would roam over her flesh. She could feel him just feet away, watching her. Makenzie was so aware in that moment time stopped for her, with seconds living longer than hours. Eventually, Charyn released her, one chain at a time. She was awash in sensation, and the ropes made her skin sensitive to every stimulus. When he was done, Makenzie was nearly unable to support her own weight, legs splayed out. The air around her caressed her skin. Each breath she took tightened the rope trappings, and she grew wetter with each beat of her heart. She wanted to beg Charyn to take her, cherry ropes wet with arousal. **** Charyn was floored when he saw her fall into subspace, mind adrift. The face she made was the same as the one she got when lost in her art, eyes glazed and intent on things only she saw. She understood both the meaning behind her bonds and him. This was the one thing no woman ever gave him. Even other women he’d played with as their Nawashi, or rope artist, didn’t fully understand this facet of surrender. That they only had to exist for their master’s needs. They could be free in the bonds because every feeling was valid, no matter how fleeting.

Bound by Accident

183

Charyn helped her stand and walk, just watching the hampered and confused steps with a hardening cock. He wanted to watch her saunter the stairs, guessing she would get halfway down before she came. He was wrong. She hit the last step and crumpled with a groan. Before she fell, he caught her, and helped her to the mirrored wall in front the bed in his room. He wanted her to see how beautiful she looked in the karada bustier. “Please, I need you.” Her voice was a whimper, crotch ropes still rocking against her clit, leaving her shuddering in his arms. He complied with the request by pulling her atop him, little preamble needed. He loosed the cherry around her hips, ropes slacking the visegrip hold against her. With the release of the ropes from her glistening snatch, Charyn took his aching cock and thrust home. He felt her clench tight and heard her aborted scream. Makenzie was glorious, quaking around him, and he fisted the ropes binding her upper body. He couldn’t release her entire breast from the bonds and instead tugged the weave open to free her abraded nipples. Every movement he made was reflected back on him from the mirror, along with her reaction. When he plunged into her she would gasp and shake, and when he withdrew she’d groan and curl her toes. Unable to resist, Charyn palmed a breast in each hand and pinched the rock-hard nipples to pouting diamond points. His lips found her neck and kissed her there with a bare press of mouth to skin. When she shook in his arms he bit down on the soft flesh that he gave affection to moments before. “Ohhh…God!” Her voice was shrill and pitched high. He lifted his head and replied, “Not God baby, Charyn. Get it right.” She did, calling his name over and over, a mantra of passion and stark need. Her mouth remained gaping the entire time, and he let the fire build under his skin. So close, but he wanted to last forever and a day. But there was no way he could, his lover was too passionate. Her

184

Jennifer Willows

body sucked him under, and he bit his lip, endeavoring to hold on. It seemed observing the tableau was too much, and he closed his eyes. That only made his lack of control worse, as the remaining senses were magnified and he could only feel, with no other sensations to dilute the bliss of being inside her. She smelled of honey, tasted of sin, felt like heaven and her cries turned him into the Energizer Bunny. Makenzie was magnificent, damp with sweat, hair in a single thick braid. He could hear her panting, body quickening around him. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait to see her face when he took the covering from her eyes. He would wait until she was a heartbeat from coming. If timed right, she’d explode on sight, and bring him over along with her. He felt her preparing, her womb clenching and going into overdrive. Makenzie was nearly frantic in her movements against him, as if she were trying to do the impossible and bottle lightning. He gripped the ropes, this time for control over himself more so than her. “Slow down, Makenzie.” He heard her whimper, then she stilled her bucking. She employed a rocking in his lap instead, and he used one hand to remove the fabric sealing her vision off. The green silk fluttered to the floor and he turned his gaze back to the mirror to enjoy the show she was going to unwittingly provide him. Charyn felt her coming, peak slamming him into a teeth-gritting, groaning orgasm. An instinct made him bite her at the curve of her neck, thick seed splashing her honey-wet walls. He looked at her in the mirror, the epitome of Eve, a woman worth anything she desired. His eyes darkened, watching her pant, flushed with her passions and his. His hands were everywhere, tugging her bindings, tasting her taut skin with finger pads. He loved everything about the moment, the woman in his arms showing him something new. He always thought his sexual preferences were a fetish, and treated them as such. When he saw those needs were mirrored in his mate, for the first time he felt

Bound by Accident

185

complete after sex, no, making love. He had never made love until Makenzie. He had never touched a woman with intent. The intent to share everything he was via their joined bodies. The thought struck him and, amazed, he lay down on his side, tugging her to face him. **** Makenzie was so close to coming she could feel her womb gathering, begging for seed. She felt the blindfold come off her head and waited a moment, then opened her eyes. She was riveted on the spot, and the sight made her wish for a picture. Modest as she was, even she knew the scene was stunning. Passion and exertion flushed her skin, eyes bright, her mouth gaped open. The bonds were amazing, a work of art in themselves. Ropes transformed her, turning her into an object of her lover’s lust. The bonds were around her ribcage, twined over and between her breasts. They ran along her curves to stop at her waist. The crotch ropes framed her wet pussy, the fruit at her delta split with cock. The colors striking her with an artist’s eye, her earthen tones mixing with his sandy ones, meshed with yellowed ropes. The peak rushed over, sent her screaming into oblivion. When she came to herself, Makenzie watched Charyn in the mirror, his eyes filled with things best left unsaid. Not yet anyway. She would prefer just a little time to get used to being head over heels in love. Especially with him. He was a little overwhelming, and she didn’t know how to take the emotions assaulting her. She just looked at him, unable to see anything but him. “Makenzie, sit up for me for me.” She did, question in her eyes. He didn’t say anything, just sat up and started unfastening her. He started with the cherry ropes veeing her crotch, removing the already-loose bonds. Next, he worked on her karada, loosening it, then removing the rope garment altogether. When he finished, the lengths of rope were wound up and placed on

186

Jennifer Willows

the dresser. Mak felt strange after Charyn disrobed her. She felt more naked now than before. The ropes gave her a sense of clothing in their confines. She lay there, replete, and she was, weirdly enough, content. The whole weekend was more than she ever could have expected, and she didn’t want it to end. Ever. **** The remaining hours of their weekend went by too fast. After their play session on early Sunday morning, Makenzie slept the day away. When she woke, it was nearing one in the afternoon. Charyn was there in bed, just watching her. He was fresh and clean, and she felt kind of sticky, just yucky. She couldn’t help snarling her lips at him. He must have seen her annoyance and decided to appease her. “Here.” He handed off a cup of coffee, and she gulped the scalding liquid back, quicker than frat boys chug beer. When the mug was empty, Charyn took it, and sat it on the tray at the edge of the bed. His next offering was a fresh croissant, stuffed with chicken salad and spinach. It was delicious, and Mak savored every bite. Smiling at him, Mak used the napkin to wipe her lips and hands. She was now awake and happy to be with Charyn, but she was going to be big as a house if he kept cooking like a gourmand. She beamed harder and stood up, sashaying to the bathroom. After making use of the facilities, she brushed her teeth, ready for a shower. When she was done, there was a towel waiting for her on the rail. She dried her skin off with quick rubbing motions followed by lotion, and wrapped up in the waiting soft fleece. When she walked into the room, there was a white dress shirt on the bed. She put it on, not fully fastening it, just slipped over her arms and left to pool around her. Flouncing downstairs, she heard Charyn speaking sharply, a clipped series of words. The sounds were muted and made it hard for her to determine if he was alone on his phone or if there was another with him. She padded through the living room, then kitchen.

Bound by Accident

187

No one was there, and listening harder let her know the discussion was in the backyard. She stepped out to see two people, one Charyn, the other unknown. He was exceedingly handsome, hair pitch black, eyes to match. The man’s looks were debonair, refined, and almost aristocratic. He was lithe, with a swimmer’s build, not as tall as Charyn, but six feet plus as well. The male looked at her, eyes glinting in the bright light of day. She quickly fastened her borrowed shirt, which would hopefully cover her appropriately. Her skin flushed in embarrassment. The other man’s eyes were heated with some emotion. It was hard to keep looking him in the eye. His gaze was deep, as if he’d seen every charm she had to offer in the quick peek he’d gotten. And that was just a narrow strip of skin, not even the full birthday suit. The directness of the look made her feel embarrassed, as if she’d given him something that belonged to her lover only. **** Charyn turned away from the fence and saw his brother was distracted from their discussion. He saw why, smiling at the woman in his shirt. She smiled back, one huge grin left over from last night. He motioned to her to come to him. She did with no hesitation, satisfying his need for control, and Charyn sat her on his lap. Happy, the sun, sea spray, and Makenzie were all he needed to feel complete. “This is my younger brother, Marques. Marques, this is Makenzie.” The male extended her a handshake, which was accepted with a like response. “Are you busy? I can go inside and scare up dinner,” Mak asked tersely, and Charyn knew she could see the tension between him and his brother in their mutual body language. “That actually sounds like a great idea. Want to have fish tonight? If that’s okay with you, there is a fresh salmon fillet in the fridge.”

188

Jennifer Willows

After she walked away, Charyn and Marques were sitting outside not even speaking, just quietly occupying the same space. Marques showed up unannounced, while Makenzie was in the shower. He had just laid out a shirt of his so she could cook with him. He heard a car in the drive, and walking downstairs, saw Marques in his black Audi. He just opened the door, sighing. There was no way he wanted anything interrupting his weekend. But Marques was here, jetlagged and looking for a conversation. So he took him in the backyard to avoid a naked Mak looking for him in the house, giving his brother two eyefuls. Shoot, Dev already got one, and that was enough. “So who was that?” Marques inquired, looking at nothing, far away. “Makenzie, she’s mine.” Charyn couldn’t help but be possessive. “Hmm, I see. She’s sexy as hell. And from the looks of the rope burn on her chest, she likes what you like.” Marques had always been a wordsmith, able to phrase any situation succinctly. That’s why he made an impeccable foreign and domestic negotiator. He could take a subtle nuance of word or gesture in several languages and make it to his, and by proxy, the company’s, benefit. “She’s mine.” “Her body told me that before you could. Most women will come on to me as if they were available, whether they are or aren’t married. Makenzie just looked closed and didn’t even really see me as anything but an object. It was almost as if she were…cataloging me, and impersonally at that. A specimen in a Petri dish.” Marques’s lip lifted, the barest of smiles. “She is an artist.” “So that’s why…Interesting, haven’t had an artist yet.” “That’s the same thing Dev said.” “Saw the Challenger in the yard, thought he was here, too.” “Nope, it’s a loan for the weekend.” Marques appeared just an iota pensive, but said nothing, so Charyn didn’t offer anything. Moments later, he spoke.

Bound by Accident

189

“Charyn, I didn’t have sex with Tami.” Marques spoke quietly, wind almost stealing the words away. “I know.” “How? I let you think we slept together.” “Because if you had sex with Tami, she would have been screaming bloody murder before you got started. Certainly considering her aspirations to be a political wife. Few women enjoy the idea of being videotaped when the man in question is a fling.” Marques loved fucking women on camera, would watch the tape afterward, and edit the scenes into movies. He had a small stable, three or four women that would come to him when asked, no matter the time or what they were doing. He and Dev joked about Marques’ “harem.” But all the women signed a release form, so he could play with his hobby unencumbered, no legal issues later. Tami would never in her life consent to be videotaped during coitus. She couldn’t without serious worries later of blackmail or worse. No politician wanted a skeleton in his wife’s closet that nasty. Only dead bodies or jail time would be worse. “You see too much, Charyn. I only kept quiet to keep you two from marrying. If she was crazy enough to climb in my bed, what else would she do? Tami never fully satisfied your hungers in any way, shape, or form. You walked around, eyes starving, until even Mom noticed. Do you know Mom asked me if you were getting any?” Charyn was floored. He didn’t realize his family saw the situation so clearly, a window into his intimate life. He was yet again glad he didn’t take the plunge with Tami. It would have been the worst mistake of his life. “Why did you wait to come to me with the truth? I just got madder and madder waiting for you to say something.” “I didn’t know what to say.” The words were simple, shocking Charyn. Marq never showed himself at a loss, always knew the right thing to say. He knew the appropriate condolences for grieving, the

190

Jennifer Willows

right tone to use with an angry business partner, the way to speak to a scared child. It was his gift. “The truth would have been good.” “You’re right, but I didn’t know at the time that it would take years to say it. It just got harder as time went by. When I saw your face during the video conference, I knew something was up. At one point in our lives, I wouldn’t have to ask. I’d already know what was wrong. That’s when I knew we had to talk, now. Charyn, I don’t want Tami between us anymore.” Charyn smiled and told his brother, “I forgive you Marq, not for supposedly sleeping with Tami, but for lying to me about it for so long.” Marq smiled back at him. When they walked inside, it was to wonderful smells of food cooking. Makenzie was pulling dough into cloverleaves arranged in a muffin pan, sprinkles of flour dotting her face, arms and shirt. She put the finished pan in the oven and set a timer on the microwave. “Marques, are you eating with us? I’m making panko-crusted salmon, sautéed beans, mashed potatoes, and yeast rolls.” Charyn answered before Marq could say no, “Yes, Mak, he is.” Marques dissembled. “I really need to get back to the house.” “No you don’t. You just got here, and I know the drive back from Charlotte was long enough. Then add the hour to get to your house.” Charyn refused to take no for an answer. “All right, I’ll eat.” “Good. You may want to take a nap while you’re at it. At least you can get home refreshed.” They ate family-style, passing dishes and taking some of each until all had gotten a portion. The meal was superb, everyone opting for seconds. When they ate the last crumb of bread, Mak pulled out an apple crisp warming in the oven. When Charyn saw dessert he smiled and dug in. Marq followed suit and took out a large chunk for himself.

Bound by Accident

191

Mak went back to the kitchen for a carafe of coffee, and when she returned only a small corner was left. He really wanted it but knew he shouldn’t steal the last piece. Since he ate the lion’s share, Charyn shared the last bit with Makenzie, feeding her a taste here and there. The small eight-by-eight pan was clean at the end, and the coffee was down to the last gritty dregs coating the bottom of the carafe. Charyn leaned in for a kiss. The meal was wonderful, the apple crisp better than his mother’s. He would never say it to Mom though. Marq looked ready to sleep where he sat. The face his brother made had Makenzie commenting, “He’s got the ’itis.” “Yep. That would be about right. I’m going to make him take the downstairs bed.” Charyn snapped his fingers in Marq’s face, and his brother laughed, standing, the response dry. “Yes, I’m going to take a nap.” Marq walked to the closest bedroom and crashed on top of the covers, still in his shoes, where he slept the rest of the day. Charyn and Mak opted to clean up the dinner dishes and wipe down the table before returning to bed themselves. When they were done, Charyn tugged Makenzie upstairs, her hands roaming his sparsely covered body. This time they only made it to the landing. He needed her, now. Dropping the workout shorts to his ankles, he pressed her back to the wall, legs clasping his hips. He fed her tidbits of cock, slow enough that Makenzie was begging for another inch or two or all. Their mouths were fused the entire time, hands intertwined along with their bodies. When she came, Charyn couldn’t hold anything back from her. Not his seed or the way he felt about her. “I love you, Makenzie.” She didn’t respond verbally, but her body did, as she came one last time and robbed him of whatever remnants of seed his body possessed. Charyn knew she heard him even though he whispered the avowal, as the words were spoken directly in her ear. Eventually, she would say what he needed to hear. But she was with him, and for now, it was enough.

192

Jennifer Willows

When the aftershocks of lovemaking passed, he scooped her up, carrying her where she belonged. Right here, in his bed and in his arms. They slept the remaining hours until dusk, cuddled, as he listened to her heartbeat. Charyn woke first and, content, lay still and silent. His satisfied stirrings must have woken Makenzie, and her eyes opened just minutes after his. They went back downstairs in search of a drink to cleanse their palates from the stale taste of sleep. Charyn poured one glass of the fresh lemonade from earlier, sharing it. Not long after, Marq walked in, eyes tired, clothing rumpled. “Y’all know she screams like a banshee, right?” Marq said, tone just a tad sarcastic. Makenzie’s face reddened, and her embarrassment was apparent. “Yeah.” Charyn’s eyes were heated, staring a hole through her. He licked his lips, thinking that he wanted to hear her scream again. She would love it, too. “Are y’all hungry?” Makenzie’s drawl was strong, southern. It made Charyn hard again, and he had to walk closer to the kitchen island to hide it. Lord knows if Marq saw it, he’d clown the hell out of him, right here and now. “I was about to get on the road, but since you’re offering, what do you have in mind?” “Depends on you. Is a sandwich all right?” Makenzie offered, already digging in the fridge. “That’s fine. I need to get rolling soon, so to-go would be nice.” “I’m not McDonald’s you know, but I’ll do it. Just this once.” Makenzie smiled at his brother, and went to work busying herself with sandwich stuffs. He took the bag with thanks before opening the front door. Charyn followed him out, walking with him to the car. When they reached the Audi, Marques hugged his brother, their first in years. “Big brother, you are a lucky man, that’s one beautiful woman you’ve got. She cooks well, fucks like a porn star, and is nice to look

Bound by Accident

193

at. Can’t ask for much more than that.” Marq’s tone implied if Charyn didn’t take care of her, he would. “I know that, and she will never be in your stable.” Charyn was trying hard not be a Neanderthal, but was having a difficult time with it. “A girl like that would be a stable by herself. Don’t need four women if you’ve got one that will do anything. Each of the harem serves a purpose, one gives excellent head, one loves anal sex, one squirts, and the other fucks like a rodeo bronc. I just call the one who fills the need present at the time. None of them has my heart, or any other part they can claim. I’m a grown man and alone. It’s not as fantastic as it seems. Most nights I spend longing and lonely. At the ripe age of thirty-two, no one cares if I’m home late or if something bad happens to me. Yes, I can fuck as I please, but it’s hollow and feels like a waste of time. I’ve never captured the one thing on video that I want to see. To show what making love looks like to the naked eye.” “Yeah, well, you have to be in love to make love. Or so I’d assume.” Charyn never realized how much his brother had grown as a man. Too much time had been wasted, and in a less loving family their relationship could have been damaged beyond repair. He should have known or at least realized where his brother’s mind was at. They had spoken in the last years, but never anything personal, just business issues. They kept the distance to themselves, and only Dev really saw what their relationship had become. He would never make that mistake again. Marq hopped in the car, driving away as if the devil were on his heels. Makenzie was waiting at the door for him when he came back, hugging him tight. Charyn was having none of it though. He didn’t need consolation, he had her. He hugged her back, loving the soft feel of her curves in his arms. The next best thing to being inside her. Their weekend was ending, but he knew what he wanted next. To

194

Jennifer Willows

show her what he felt for her, so she would never leave again. It would take the rest of the night, but she would be his by dawn. Makenzie ended the embrace by touching his face and pulled back from him. “Come on, boo, I just made these sandwiches for you.” He allowed her to tug him into the backyard, plates set up at the small table. Charyn would let her distract him, but only to a point. He tugged her out of her chair into his waiting lap. He piled all the food on one plate, three sandwiches, a huge pile of chips, and one pickle. He raised an eye at that. Why was there only one pickle? She answered the question that his brow implied. “Sorry, I was hungry and had to eat something.” Her eyes were wickedly bright as the laughter in them shone through. He laughed at that, kissing her, pickles and all. They took turns feeding each other, and when Mak couldn’t eat another bite, he laughed as she cried uncle. Charyn smiled. Now was the time for dessert. He spread his legs wide and turned the cocoa-dusted beauty to face him. He kissed her, spicy and sweet, all at once. She touched tongues, a brief meeting. He took a palm to weighing her breast and, impatient, freed himself. His cock headed for her heat, the tunneling stroke burying him as far as their bodies would allow. But he wanted deeper and swept the plates off the table, leaning her onto the glass top. He dug as deep as he could, grinded her across the table in a slick slide, aided by the shirt at her back. **** The table was small, and Makenzie felt her head hang off the other side. Charyn lifted her hips, crouched over her, plowing her with drilling strokes. He was mining for something all right, her orgasm. Makenzie was screaming, lost in the endless peak. She felt as if she were flying high, lost in oblivion. She felt Charyn spend inside her as he opened his mouth to suck the skin at her ear. His breath was rough, the huff and puff of an athlete after a long game. She could

Bound by Accident

195

only lie there, taking each breath as he released his, his weight crushing her. Her heart was bursting. Soon after, Charyn stumbled to the bath with her. The wonderful sex left her legs weak and unable to hold her upright. Both of them reeked of sex, sweat, and saliva. He poured the last bottle of salts in the water, stirring lavender in the air. He took her with him, sitting in the hot water. As tired as she was from peaking, the bath made her limp muscles into wet noodles. Charyn bathed them off, no preliminaries, and Mak accepted the gesture. She was too wrung out to do anything more than be present for the bath. After they were clean, Charyn brought her to bed. They slept the remaining hours of night, dead to the world. Monday morning, Makenzie awoke to Charyn’s kisses fluttering over her sheet-draped skin. He was clean shaven and dressed for work. Looking over at the clock, Makenzie realized Deven would be there shortly, ready to carpool to the office. “Do I have to worry about you running away again?” he asked, and she could see that the inquiry was not because he was insecure of her, but to make sure she understood he wasn’t letting her go. “Nope.” Mak was sure. Even if they broke up, it would be worth it. Just to claim him, for as long as it would last. But if he got any ideas about walking away, she was willing to fight for him. “Good, I have to go to work. You know where everything is.” He kissed her one last time, sampling her lips. “I love you, Makenzie.” Makenzie smiled, and this time the words came to her naturally. “I love you, too.” Charyn walked away smiling.

196

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 15: What Love Looks Like… The last six months were better than the first weekend. They still made love daily, and she liked the man as much as she loved him. They made several trips to visit his mom, Charlotte, who was absolutely the most fascinating person Mak ever met. Her attitude was casual despite her lifestyle, a hippie in high society. Upon meeting Charlotte, Mak understood her children’s attitudes about life. She could see how Dev was a daredevil, Charyn a romantic, and Marques a skeptic. Makenzie left her job two months ago with much prompting from Charyn, and she paid the rent with some money she’d saved over the years. He kept asking her to move in, but she kept refusing, saying she liked having her own home for the moment. Makenzie couldn’t help but keep her own place. She refused to put herself in a bad position of starting from scratch, just in case something went wrong. Charyn told her the refusal felt as if she didn’t want to trust him. He let her, since he knew trust was earned, not given, and kept his mouth shut to keep the peace. But he still kept asking, and she kept vacillating. Either way, neither of them spent a night alone, whether they were at his place or hers. But she did get the guts to give Charyn the painting she’d worked on of him, and now it hung in their bedroom, just across from the bed, at his house. The portrait made for many sexy nights, when she would masturbate upon request to his visage as he watched. Or on other nights, when she was bad, the painting witnessed many spankings.

Bound by Accident

197

She sold a few pieces to get her feet wet in the local markets and was now ready for her first show, at a gallery in Raleigh. The gallery, Déjà View, was coincidentally three blocks from Dojo, downtown. They were doing a full show of everything she had on hand. She even took the first painting of Charyn sleeping, with his consent, from the bedroom wall, although it was definitely not for sale at any price. The idea of having a showing was wonderful and terrible at the same time. How would others take her work? Charyn thought everything she did was great, as did Charli and Mom. But how would people who didn’t know or have reason to like her think? The answer came that night when she sold everything there. The sleeping seminude of Charyn was inquired about numerous times, the amounts offered astronomical to a woman like her. Charyn had a meeting for the Yakima deal and wasn’t going to be able to attend the showing, although he was there to help set up that morning. Makenzie was grateful that he hadn’t come. The women there were piranhas. She saw the lust in their eyes as they asked about the painting of him. If he was there in the flesh, her first show may have been the last after she socked some lusty rich patron in the eye for messing with her man. After the last offer of near six figures, she had to get away. She never thought anyone would pay that much for anything she created while alive. It wasn’t even a sculpture. Makenzie smiled, ducking out back of the gallery. She smoothed the silk jumper Charli got from her French friend in a peacock blue. She topped it with a shawl and Christian Louboutin heels Charyn bought her. Before she left that afternoon, he wrapped her in a rope corselet, a parting gift. When she needed something to ground her during the setup today, she would touch her belly, the reminder of him. Almost as good as a hug, it wrapped her from under her breasts to her hips. It had helped her stay calm during the long show and the stress of the day. The hour was late, almost midnight, and she was tired of heels and hobnobbing with patrons. She leaned into the wall, sagging,

198

Jennifer Willows

breath in small huffs leaving her chest. She didn’t think it was possible to become an overnight sensation, but from the looks of it, she could. The owner, Dayja, took her aside for a tête-à-tête, asking for more of her work to show in another six months. The volume she had to produce in that time seemed impossible, but she was going to give it the good ole college try. Makenzie lit a cigarette bummed from one of the gallery workers. She hit it, taking a deep drag. This was her first in months, and the menthol went straight to her head. She was glad for the support of the wall, and relaxed, taking slow pulls of the smoke. She was halfway done with it when she heard steps shuffling in the alley. “You know those things will kill you right?” Mak, startled, jumped out of her toed-off shoes. Laughing, Charyn walked to her, taking the borrowed smoke, grinding it under one heel. “Come on, it’s time for your surprise.” Charyn took the heels in one hand, her with the other. She tiptoed to the car with him, laughing as he pulled away from the curb, their destination unknown. The ’cuda’s windows were rolled down, blowing her hair wild. The muscle car ate the few blocks north until they reached Dojo and parked. Makenzie was curious. They had come back here many times since the first visit, and she had seen all types of acts. Where was the surprise in that? But she put her shoes on and let him open her door, escorting her out. She hobbled to the door on her tip-toes, feet exhausted, arches begging for mercy. He led her to their favorite table, the same gold canopy that shielded them from onlookers as they made love. The place was nearly empty, with only a third of the tables occupied. Before she had the chance to sit on the cushion, Charyn kneeled and tugged off the torturous luxury shoes she decided to hinder herself with by wearing the whole night. Once she was settled down Indian-style, a handsome Greek server of maybe twenty or so came to their table.

Bound by Accident

199

“Good evening, I am Christos. As the appetizer course has been served, your entrees will be here shortly.” Christos offered two bottles of wine, one red, and the other white. Charyn approved the white on sight, not bothering to taste either. The server walked away, carrying the rejected bottle with him. Makenzie wondered what they would see tonight. She kept looking around her, peering in every exposed corner, and after sipping the white wine, she finally asked what she wanted to know. “What is on special tonight?” “Oysters on the half shell in a miso broth, served with a strawberry salad.” “Okay…What is the entertainment then?” “That, my dear, is the surprise.” Makenzie was stumped and couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what would be displayed. If she had an idea, she would have rattled it off already. She would find out in a moment and kept silent, waiting to get the surprise of a lifetime, as she had been promised earlier in the day. The server said dinner would be out shortly. Just five minutes or so later, the two glasses of wine had Makenzie buzzed, and Charyn withheld more, offering her a glass of water instead. The server came back, dishes ready and fragrant, the delicate miso broth adding a touch of mystique to the air. Charyn pulled her close, tugging at her clothes. He unzipped the jumpsuit from the side and unwound her rope panties. They fell apart at his touch, becoming simple rope again, and he slung the length over his shoulders. He undid his clothes as well, another favored pinstripe shirt in blue and gray. The slacks were next, and their clothes were a jumbled pile, shoes and socks on top. He pulled her on his lap, spooning her a small sip of broth. The gong sounded, and Makenzie was doing her best to peer around, but there was only silence. He fed her another sip, and the next, until she had eaten most of the broth.

200

Jennifer Willows

Makenzie’s thighs were wet, and Charyn sniffed once as if he scented her arousal for him in the air. He smiled at her, and with no warning, gave her his cock. He just gave her some of it and let her squirm for the rest. By the time he was fully seated inside her, Mak was swiveling her hips, wanting even more. “I love you, Makenzie. Be mine forever,” Charyn finally spoke. Makenzie was sure she was going to have a heart attack. She was beyond elated at his confession. Her relationship with Charyn gave her so much. His body told her, his actions told her, of his love for her. Next to that, the words were a formality. But they were certainly worth hearing over and over again. “I love you back, Charyn Moreland, and I always will.” There was nothing else to say, and she lost herself in making love with the man of her dreams. “Come for me. I want to show the world what love looks like.” The only request Charyn had made of her that night thus far and, with her hair trigger, easy to comply. His strokes were slow and searing, the rope corselet constricting her. Just this side of too tight, as if each breath was a gift bequeathed by her lover. She held him, arms tight, cupping his head in back. Each breath she took was baited with his scent mingled with the smell of her own satisfaction. Before she could peak a second time, Charyn stopped moving, and grabbed her hips so she couldn’t move either. She looked at him, stumped. Makenzie wanted to beg him to continue, only the other people nearby keeping her silent. Most of them were getting theirs on too, based on the shuffling and symphony of groans. The entertainers must have been stupendous and worked the crowd to a fever pitch, since usually the other diners were quieter. Mak looked at Charyn. He stayed still and silent, until long moments later, when his lips met hers. He whispered against her lips, “Marry me, Makenzie. Be my wife.”

Bound by Accident

201

Makenzie was shocked. She knew Charyn wanted a relationship with her, but his wife? He was asking her now? There was only one answer and she gave it. “Yes, baby, yes.” His eyes gave away his trepidation, the fear that she would refuse him. Her answer cleared his eyes of their earlier apprehension, and he lurched against her. Eyes now dark and lusty, Charyn leaned her back, taking over. She came so quickly, there was only time to whimper. “Come for me again, Makenzie.” He rubbed his hips clockwise, scraping her clit. Back arched, Makenzie peaked higher, crying out his name. When she finally caught her breath, she heard the roar of applause. Charyn pulled an oyster from her plate, and when he opened the shell, a ring rested inside. He placed it on her finger, a perfect fit. When Mak’s vision cleared, she was a wearing a golden rope, large yellow solitaire front and center.

202

Jennifer Willows

Chapter 16: The End…For Now Now, one year almost to the day since they met, Makenzie and Charyn were getting married. Charyn, true to his word, planned the entire affair. She barely had time to pick a dress and show up. Her new show was in a month, and she would be just getting back the week before from their honeymoon. In order to fill the volume needed for her gallery opening, she worked day and night. More often than not, she would fall asleep at her worktable, head down in front of her latest piece, only for her to wake in the morning and find herself looking at the sexiest man on earth, and he was all hers. So blessed with feeling loved, their early mornings of naked skin on his silken sheets, rebelling against the cold with her lover. She had finally accepted the offer of moving in with Charyn after he proposed. But she still refused to let go of her unit, and Charli opted to sell the half to her. Although she had moved in with Charyn, the unit was newly occupied by a friend from her old job, Jamie. Her friend had recently come through a bad break-up and needed a new place quickly and with little fanfare. Makenzie negotiated a fair rate with her and left her furnishings for her new renter. Jamie was also her singular bridesmaid. Charli was the maid of honor. No matron. Deven was Charyn’s best man, and Marques his only groomsman. Charyn chose the beach for the evening wedding, the ceremony at sunset. The guests walked double file, all carrying hurricane glasses with candles to light the way. The ceremony was quick and succinct, each speaking the vows they wrote for the occasion with conviction, and leaving even some of the unromantic

Bound by Accident

203

guests crying. When the two kissed, the guests cheered, spraying the couple with birdseed. At the reception, most were shocked when they found out Charyn planned the couple’s wedding, but her mom took half the credit. “Do you know how many calls I got in the middle of the night, wanting my opinion on ridiculous ideas? Crazy stuff, asking if he should have butterflies released? Had to scale that boy down some or he would have my child in the poorhouse. I’ve never seen a man so happy to get married in all my life.” Sharon laughed during her speech, tables of guests guffawing as well. Makenzie knew that even as the guests laughed, almost every woman there would have given a vital organ to be treated the same way by their men. Too many of the male guests were silent, and she knew some of their wives and girlfriends were going to make life hell when they went to bed that night.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Jennifer is a vixen who will try anything once, although it’s too bad she still has a full bucket list. She spends her days fixing other people’s mistakes with a smile, and her nights chasing her babies around while trying to write her naughty books. Most people don't recognize her from one day to the next since she tends to change. A lot. Thanks to her loving husband who gets to inspire a multitude of material, you have the pleasure of reading whatever story you read just now. She doesn't have a website yet, but when she gets one, you'll be the first to know. Feel free to Facebook or send an email to [email protected]. She loves to hear from her readers.

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com