Chapter 9 Adair
ADAIR
Almost two weeks after the grill incident, I get back from running errands to find a box sitting on the front steps. I drop the groceries off in the kitchen and go back out to investigate.
I don’t recognize the company name on the return address. The box isn’t very heavy; I give it a shake and nothing makes noise. But it’s addressed to Jack, so even though I’m dying of curiosity, I resign myself to waiting with a sigh.
I put the mystery box on the console table and head upstairs to grab my tablet.
My phone vibrates in my pocket; it’s a message from Olivia, saying the reader feedback she’s getting about the new covers is terrific.
I sit cross-legged on the bed and type back excitedly.
I’m eager to let her know that I’ve been able to draw a little bit as my hand has been healing.
I’m hoping I’ll be back to full steam soon, because the lack of income has been stressing me out.
“Adair?”
Uh-oh. I don’t know what I did yet, but Jack using my actual name — not Bunny, not even Addy — means I definitely fucked up. That thought goes through my head as I notice the time.
Shit — where did half an hour go? I have a mental image of myself grabbing that box from the front steps right after I put the grocery bags down onto the counter… where they’re still sitting.
I smack my forehead with a groan. And I’d picked up ice cream, too. My apology is already tumbling out of my mouth as I dash into the kitchen, cringing at the thought of the pissed-off expression I’m expecting to see on Jack’s face.
“Shit, I’m so sorry — it completely slipped my mind — there was a box on the steps — I went to grab it and I was gonna come back and put the stuff away. I’m sorry, I can’t believe I forgot —”
He barks out a laugh as he deposits the ruined ice cream in the sink. “Really? You can’t believe you forgot?” With a snort, he shakes his head. “Because I sure can.”
To my utter shock, he doesn’t seem furious. Irritated, sure — but he looks and sounds amused as well as annoyed. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I promise,” I say, grabbing the spray bottle of cleaner and a couple of rags so I can mop up the puddle of melted ice cream.
Jack sighs, but it sounds more weary than angry. “Oh, don’t promise that. It’s not going to happen. You’re scatterbrained as hell. But I love you.”
Why is Jack being so weird? I frown at him. “Why are you being so weird?”
He doesn’t answer me, just holds a palm flat against the milk carton with a grimace. “I’m not sure this survived, but maybe we’ll get lucky,” he says.
“I’m so sorry I forgot about the groceries. I was going to put them away but I went to get that box from the front steps, and after that —”
“Right. Slipped your mind,” Jack interrupts, but he still doesn’t sound angry. “Why don’t you grab that box, then? Bring it into the living room.”
“What is it?” I ask a minute later.
“It’s for you,” he says, answering me without answering. He hands me his pocketknife. “Here. Why don’t you open it?”
Inside is a plush blanket. I flip up a corner and run my fingers over the fuzzy fleece back. When I glance up at Jack with a frown, I’m surprised to see a smile spreading across his face. “Unfold it.”
I grab two corners and shake it apart. “What — how…” My mouth drops open when I realize what’s printed on it: Our wedding picture — the one Jack teases me about every time he sees me staring at it. I put a hand over my mouth.
“I used one of those places where you can get photos printed on coffee mugs and shit. I dug up the digital file and had it made.”
My laugh is shaky with emotion. “I know how those places work. But why? What made you think of it?”
“Well, you love that picture so much, and I know you really liked the blanket that got scorched.” He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug, that uncharacteristically soft smile still on his face. “Figured this could be kind of like, you know, an early anniversary present.”
His last syllable is all but drowned out by my squeal as I throw my arms around him. “Oh my God, thank you so much! I love it.”
I stand on my toes and bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent. “I love you,” I mumble against his skin, fighting a losing battle against tears.
His arms wrap around me as his beard tickles my ear. “Love you, too, Bunny.”
I pick up the blanket, cuddling it and rubbing my face against the fluffy material. “It’s super-soft.”
Jack chuckles. “Yeah, try not to burn this one, because it’s some synthetic shit that’ll probably go up like a match if it catches fire.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Will do, but only because you asked so nicely,” I tease. I give the blanket a shake to spread it out so I can look at the picture again. As I run my hand over the velvety plush, I feel a mischievous grin come over my face. I snicker, which makes Jack look at me.
“I can’t wait to tell people how much I love sitting on your face,” I tell him. A look of genuine surprise flashes over his features before he lets out a snort and grabs me.
He throws me over his shoulder. “Fucking brat,” he says, but without any heat in his voice. He aims a few shots at my ass, but they’re lighthearted enough that I’m still giggling when he puts me down again.
I feel my face fall. “I didn’t get you anything, though.”
The wolfish smile that slips onto Jack’s features sends a trickle of fear and arousal down my spine. His laugh rumbles low in his throat. “Oh, what I want from you isn’t something you can buy.”
“What’s that?” The warmth nestled in my belly drifts south and starts to smolder. Jack looks down at me as he slips an arm around my waist. Pulling me against him, he brings his hand up to my face. When he traces the seam of my lips with a finger, I part them for him.
I assume he wants me to suck on it, so Jack catches me by surprise when he curls that finger into a fishhook he uses to drag my head by the corner of my mouth.
“I want to take you back to that dungeon. We’ve talked about going back, but I want to actually do it. I want to show off my pain slut. I want you to beg for me. I want you to cry for me.”
When I make a little sound around his finger, he withdraws it, wiping it dry on my cheek with a dark grin. My heart takes off as he threads his big hand through my hair. He jerks my head back, turning my next breath into a ragged gasp. “Please,” I whisper.
Jack bends his head down until his lips brush the shell of my ear. “You deranged little whore,” he murmurs. Palming my rock-hard dick, he huffs out a laugh. “I love how needy you are for this. Because I want all of it — all of you.”
He continues to grope me roughly until I’m squirming in his grasp. “Please,” I gasp out. “Please, Jack — I want you now.”
With a growl, Jack spins me around, grabbing me by one wrist and twisting it behind me as he shoves me over the arm of the sofa, sending me face-first into the cushions as my feet leave the floor.
I manage to get my feet underneath me again, but my relief is short-lived as Jack grabs my other wrist, too, pulling them together so he can keep me restrained with one hand. He kicks my legs apart as his other hand snakes down to yank my belt loose and pull down my pants and underwear.
When he grabs my hard cock, I moan. “So fucking greedy,” he hisses in my ear. “I should chain you up right here and whip you until you come all over the floor, then make you lick it up like the pathetic mess you are.”
I’m already so turned on, I think I’d let Jack do whatever he wanted. It’s a dangerous feeling, which somehow makes it even hotter. “Please,” I beg again.
Jack lets go of me all at once. I barely catch myself from taking a tumble onto the floor. He snickers. “Get undressed,” he orders as he walks towards the stairs without so much as looking at me.
God, his dismissive attitude shouldn’t be doing the things that it’s doing to me right now. As his foot hits the bottom stair, I call after him, “Um, hey, did you want me to stay down here?”
Jack spins back around and is on me before I have a chance to react. He grabs me by the hair again, wrapping his other hand around my throat tight enough that I fight to hold in a cough.
There are already tears in my eyes from his grip on my hair when he lets go of my neck and pantomimes slapping my face. “If I want you to speak, I’ll fucking let you know,” he snaps. “There’s only one word I want to hear out of you — understand?”
I know he means my safeword; I nod vigorously. The second time Jack taps my cheek, the force is just shy of a real smack, firm enough to leave no question about the implication. He grins when he sees me shiver.
I’m naked, standing awkwardly beneath the ceiling beams that have the eye bolts embedded in them when he comes back down the stairs, now shirtless. He’s pulled his hair into a low ponytail and his dark eyes are molten. My hands drift down to cover my rapidly stiffening cock.
Jack circles around the sofa and gives my knuckles a sharp rap with the paddle in his hand.
“You know better than that.” I drop my arms to my sides, staying mute as Jack fits the leather cuffs on my wrists and tethers me to one of those eye bolts with a heavy chain that pulls my arms together above my head.
After a few seconds of trying to get my balance, I realize that Jack made the chain shorter than he has in the past. I have to stand on my toes, which makes me wobble a little.
Did he plan this? Or did he make a mistake?
The dark gleam in his eye and sinister smirk twisting his lips tell me the answer.
I drop my eyes, noticing for the first time what he’s holding. Along with the paddle I already felt a taste of, the coiled black leather of the long whip is in his other hand. Fear jolts me.
My feet stutter back and I nearly lose my footing. Jack steps nearly toe-to-toe with me and looks down. “Safe word?” he barks.
“Maple,” I whisper.