Chapter Three
Fractured
Amy
Shoving her free hand between her legs, Amy ignored his goading tone.
“Well done.” Kyle turned, revealing the same taut ass she’d enjoyed grabbing while he’d pounded her. Her thighs pressed together at the salacious recollections. He’d be a lot easier to hate if he wasn’t so damn tempting. “You’ve impressed me.” Straightening, he spun slowly to reveal a tray before wandering into the room.
Unwilling to meet his eyes, she turned back to the window.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” His voice had the same sardonic air as before.
“No, sir,” she mumbled, adamantly refusing to look at him. “You told me to be quiet.” She couldn’t resist that small dig, pressing her mouth into a straight line to avoid any risk of the smile that threatened to appear.
“True enough.” He shoved the door closed with his foot, and even though she pretended not to be watching him, she noticed how he didn’t lock it behind him.
For some crazy reason, that one miniscule faux pas offered the first bloom of hope she’d sensed since she’d searched for a key to the cuffs. Presumably, he intended to lock the door, but until he did, there was a slim chance that if she could rid her arm of the cuff, she could flee.
“I’m proud of you, little girl.”
She fidgeted on the bed, vexed at his patronizing response. He had no right to be proud.
He had no basis for any of it.
Grimacing with annoyance, one lingering question nagged at the back of her brain—a question she couldn’t find an answer to. If he’d told her the truth that first night—if he’d said he used to own their house in Aspen Way where she’d raised her boys, would it have stopped her from accepting his offer?
Why would it have? Her jaw clenched at the inevitable next query. Much though she disliked the choice, he hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Landlords were allowed to raise their rents. It wasn’t his fault we couldn’t afford it.
Pulling in air, she intentionally avoided his gaze as he lowered the tray onto a nearby table. Balling her free hand into a fist, she pressed her nails into her palm, the pain assuaging her as she grudgingly considered seeking his permission to speak. She detested needing to ask at all, but the threat of an erotic repercussion was more than she was willing to tolerate.
“Sir.” Her voice sounded tiny. “Can I speak?”
Deliberately sidestepping a ‘please’, she stilled, waiting on his verdict.
“Since you’ve been so good, I guess so.” He approached in her peripheral vision, thrusting a glass of water in her direction. “Here.”
“Thank you.” She took the glass in her left hand, her brow furrowing. There should have been something so normal about her lover bringing her a drink that belied her being cuffed to his fucking bed, but the glass had changed nothing.
He had her restrained there.
She was, in effect, his prisoner.
“What do you want to say?” He folded his arms in front of her, though, still, she stubbornly snubbed the invitation to look his way.
“I was wondering…” She inhaled. “Why you didn’t tell me about Aspen Way?”
“That again.” His gruff tone was dismissive, and she imagined him rolling his eyes.
Yes, that again!
She bit down on the retort. What was wrong with the man? He couldn’t lie to her by omission and not expect her to be disturbed.
“I didn’t think it was important, little girl.”
“It’s important to me.” She couldn’t believe it even needed to be said. “We had an entire back story where our paths had crossed, and I didn’t know anything about it.”
How fucking stupid must she have been?
The question prodded at her, her gaze rising to take in his sleek black trousers. Somehow, however badly she was dressed, he always seemed to be turned out in the most exquisite clothing. Something about the comparison jarred, cementing the difference between them.
She could play at living his life, could benefit from the odd expensive dinner or fancy car ride, but fundamentally, they would never be alike. The years of poverty and struggle were as ingrained in her as his privilege was in him.
“Didn’t you know who your landlord was?”
Just like that, he took the matter and turned it on its head, implying that she’d been dim not to have known that stuff for herself. Maybe he was right. A grown woman should have read her own tenancy agreement, shouldn’t she? Yet she’d always let Graham deal with that stuff.
“No.” It sounded ridiculous when she said it aloud. “Graham handled the contract, and he never mentioned you.”
Kyle snorted. “Oh, I bet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her head snapped up to meet his stare for the first time since he’d returned to the room.
“It means I met Graham a few times, and I’m not surprised.” His eyebrow cocked, challenging her to oppose him. Naturally, she took the bait.
“He was a good man.” She didn’t know why she was defending him. It wasn’t as if she’d been her late-husband’s biggest advocate since she’d known Kyle, but she sensed Kyle’s remark had disparaged Graham’s memory, and she wouldn’t accept that. Graham had been a lot of things, but he’d never treated her badly.
“He was as boring as fuck.” Kyle’s tone was wry. “You’ve said so yourself.”
“I never said that!” She bristled at the implication, certain she’d never directly criticized Graham to Kyle, but then, in all the hours they’d spent together, perhaps she’d said something to that effect.
“Listen.” Crouching in front of her, Kyle sighed. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Amy.”
It was the first sign of compromise he’d offered since he’d dragged her out of his office, but for one mad moment, she contemplated lifting her foot and kicking him in the balls. In that protracted and blissful second, she imagined the event in her head, envisioning the moment her skin connected with his groin and the gratifying feeling when he reeled back in pain.
She lingered on the mental image, reveling in it, even when it became obvious that the pursuit was pointless. Yes, she could enjoy fleeting seconds of pleasure in his humiliation, but then what? He still had the key to her cuff, and he was far less likely to release her if she behaved that way.
With a heavy heart, she ceded the fantasy. In truth, she much preferred the bargaining version of Kyle. Better that she worked with him than fight against him.
“Nor me.”
Life with Graham might have been frustrating at times, but she’d never known the complicated mix of emotions Kyle inspired. She loved him, yet she despised him… and there was no bloody end to it.
“Drink your water.” He motioned to the glass in her left hand. “I bet you need it.”
“Fine.” She released the word in one long exhalation of air, lifting the glass to her lips and draining half of its contents. It was only once she’d swallowed the water down that it occurred to her he might have slipped something into the drink to sedate her. “What is this?”
Lifting the glass toward the light, she frowned. Was she going mad assuming he meant her ill harm when until that day he’d never done anything to truly hurt her, or was she only being sensible? After all, if Kyle wasn’t going to look after her, then she’d have to do the job herself.
“Water.” His lips twitched. “And I am going to have to insist you use my title, Amy.”
“Sorry, sir.”
He had no way of knowing if her contrition was real. All she knew was that keeping him happy would expedite a faster release than pissing him off.
“I have a glass of my own on the tray.” He signaled to the refreshments he’d brought with him. “You can’t seriously think I’d put anything in your drink?”
“You left me here like this!” She yanked at the metal holding her in place. “So, I thought all bets were off, sir !”
She hadn’t intended for the fury swilling in her to erupt, but his incredulity was exasperating. How dare he be offended at her inference when she was the one chained to the bed?
“Amy.” He forced out her name between gritted teeth. “I had to keep you here, but I would never, ever do anything like that.”
He had to keep me here. She imagined rolling her eyes at his bullshit. Just like he had to cuff me.
“It’s difficult to see where the line is when I’m the one cuffed, sir.” She considered finishing the rest of the water but couldn’t shake the idea that there might be something wrong with it.
“We’ll get past this.” His voice had taken on an irritatingly soft and knowing tone.
Will we? Her attention rose back to his hypnotic blue eyes. How?
“Yes.” He enunciated the reply, even though she hadn’t spoken it aloud.
“Will you let me go, sir?” Her gaze darted to the wrist still confined in his metal bracelet. She’d never realized how much strain an elevated limb would put on her shoulder, but she was definitely ready to alleviate the ache.
“Soon.” He reached for her knee and squeezed. “You’re getting cold. You should get under the covers.”
“The temperature isn’t really my most pressing issue, sir.”
Why couldn’t he just unlock her?
Couldn’t he see how aggravated she was?
Maybe that’s the point. Her eyes fluttered closed as she pulled in a deep breath.
“I want to trust you again.” His gaze dropped to where his hand had settled. “ Want to be able to release you.”
Trust me?
It took every ounce of her willpower not to laugh in his face.
“But?” She prompted, sensing where his words were going. Whatever his insane list of reasons was, she might as well hear them.
Rising to his full height, the warmth of his palm left her knee, he took the glass from her as he turned away.
“But first, we need to talk.”