One Night with Sole Regret 05 Tie Me (8 page)

Dawn squirmed again. When her hand lightly touched his bare knee, he gasped. He should have skipped this part of the story, he realized too late. That first experience with bondage had been one of the most intense emotional and sexual experiences of his life.

“Did you go through with it?” she asked.

“Yeah. I was scared to death. With each knot Toshi tied, I became more tense, more afraid, more aroused. When he was finished, I was aware of every inch of my body. I was completely helpless. I thought he might force me to have sex—thought I’d be okay with it even though I’d promised Sara. But once he had me bound, he whispered, ‘Now, you are free, my student,’ and then he sat beside me with one hand between my shoulder blades while I fought the rope. Not physically. I couldn’t move if I’d wanted to. But mentally I raged against my restraints for a really long time.”

“What did he mean
you are free
?”

“I didn’t understand until I stopped fighting against the bonds. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually I gave the ropes control, and
then
I understood what he meant. By giving up control, I became free.”

“That doesn’t make sense at all,” she said.

“It won’t unless you experience it for yourself.”

“Do you do the rope thing now? What did you call it?”

“Shibari. I haven’t been practicing much recently. For about three years, it was an outlet for me. I enjoyed tying women, but I only did it when Owen was with me. I’m not sure I trusted myself to be alone with a woman. They tend to beg for sex after I tie them, and I wasn’t willing to take it that far. Owen had no problem with that aspect. He’d have sex with them if they wanted it and eventually he started helping with the bondage too.”

“So you and Owen tied women up and then he had sex with them?”

“Not always. We left that decision to the woman.”

“But
you
didn’t do anything sexual with them?”

He took a deep breath. “I would usually…” He coughed. Wow, was he really going to tell her this? “…perform oral sex on them.”

Her breath caught, and she squirmed again.

“But I never penetrated them, never allowed them to touch my cock in any way. No blow jobs. Nothing.”

“You had to have been miserable.”

“I would have been, but Owen helped me out.” His stomach clenched. What must this woman think of him?

“How?” she asked.

“Hand jobs.”

“Oh, but no sex?”

“Isn’t it all sex?” he said. “That’s why I’m so confused. Sara was gone before I was introduced to Shibari, so somehow I convinced myself that it was okay. She didn’t like oral sex—”

“I like it,” Dawn blurted.

A long silence hung awkwardly between them, and he prayed for a bolt of lightning to light her features so he could see her expression.

“I mean if the guy knows what he’s doing,” she said. “Maybe she didn’t like it because you’re not good at it.”

Kellen chuckled. “Trust me, I’m good at it. She was a bit timid in bed.” Kellen rubbed the back of his neck. “That kind of deep intimacy embarrassed her, so she didn’t want me making out with her pussy for hours on end.”

“Dear lord,” Dawn whispered.

“So I convinced myself that oral sex didn’t go against my oath to her.”

“Thank God.”

Kellen chuckled at Dawn’s little asides. “And though I told her I’d never let a woman touch my cock, I never said anything about a man touching it. So I used Owen to get me off because I felt comfortable enough with him to let him touch me. The thought of any other man anywhere near my cock makes me ill, but Owen is different for some reason, and
that’s
the part I don’t understand. Why am I okay with him touching me?”

“Do you love him?”

“He’s my best friend.”

“So, yeah, you love him.”

It wasn’t as simple as that. “But not romantically.”

“Are you sexually attracted to him or not?” Neither judgmental nor accusatory, her tone was simply inquisitive.

Kellen tried to sort through the jumbled feelings he had for Owen. He was so glad that Dawn was letting him air his filthy laundry without judgment. He’d needed to talk to someone about this for years. He couldn’t discuss it with Owen when he really didn’t understand what was going on in his head, and he obviously didn’t want the rest of the band to know what went on between him and Owen behind closed doors, so he couldn’t talk to Jacob or Gabe or Adam either. Dawn couldn’t possibly understand how much she was doing for him by just listening and forcing him to face reality.

“I don’t look at him and think,
damn, I want to fuck him unconscious
. It’s more like,
please, will someone touch me there
? I can’t stand this anymore. So Owen’s handy. Literally.” Kellen’s stomach sank as realization hit him. “Shit, I’m just using him, aren’t I?” His elbows hit the piano keys as he dropped his face into his hands. “How could I do that to him? He must be as confused about this as I am.”

“Do you look at
me
and think,
damn, I want to fuck her unconscious
?” Dawn said.

Kellen’s back stiffened, drawing him away from the keyboard as he thought about the way she looked in that loose, shapeless white dress. How she smelled of honeysuckle and the sea. The sound of her voice and the music she so easily drew from the piano before him. He knew he was in trouble when he imagined how she’d taste—as delicious as her sweet, vanilla French toast—and how her supple flesh would feel beneath his hands. Warm. Soft. Smooth. He could almost feel her writhing beneath him as he claimed her with slow, deep thrusts. His cock throbbed and his balls ached with an unbearable fullness. What he wouldn’t give to be able to bury himself inside her. But he couldn’t.

He took a shaky breath and held it deep in his lungs, willing his lust to dissipate.

Torture. This was fucking torture.

“Yes,” he groaned. “That’s exactly what I think when I look at you.” He clenched both fists and rested them on either knee to keep himself from reaching for her. “But I can’t.”

The storm seemed to grow louder as their conversation lulled. He’d never been more tempted to go back on his promises to Sara. He had to leave this house. His convictions were strong, but his flesh grew weaker each moment he was in Dawn’s company.

“Could you tie me?” she asked quietly.

He tensed and scrambled from the bench, stubbing his toe on the piano leg. Pain shot up his foot and shin, and he welcomed the diversion. She was already a work of art. How beautiful would she look with knots and ropes drawing attention to her graceful lines and soft curves?

Kellen licked his lips and swallowed hard despite the sudden dryness in his mouth.

“I’m going to go,” Kellen said.

Lightning flashed in quick succession. Thunder made the house shudder. The wind howled, slashing the torrential rain against the windows in sheets.

“You can’t go out in that,” Dawn said. So matter of fact. So Dawn.

A gentle ping sounded on the piano as she found the keys in the darkness and began to play his song. Funny how he thought of it as
his
song. He wished Dawn could be his too.

He pressed the hard ridge of his cock against his thigh with one hand and closed his eyes, completely giving himself to the melody, even if he wasn’t quite ready to give himself over to the woman.

Chapter Six

Dawn tried to get lost in her music. Tried, but failed. She was so aware of Kellen standing in the dark several feet behind her right shoulder that he might as well have been plastered to her back. She wanted to feel that enormous bulge in his shorts pressing into her spine as he stood behind her. She’d give anything for those strong, masculine hands to reach around her to cup her breasts. For his thumbs to rub the unbearable ache from her stiff nipples. She squirmed on the bench, trying to alleviate some of the matching ache in the swollen flesh between her thighs.

Now that she knew the pieces of the entire song, Dawn needed to write it down so she could scan it and fax it to her agent in the morning. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see score paper and if the lights came on, she feared Kellen would find a good excuse to leave. Even if he refused to give in to her lame attempts at seduction, she didn't want him to go. She found his company inspiring. His interactions with his friend Owen seemed a little odd, but the way he described Shibari—which she'd never heard of before—had her squirming on the bench again. She was squirming so often that Kellen probably thought she had to pee. But her urgency was caused by something else entirely.

As she progressed through the music, she reached the second stanza, the one that had taken on the cadence of the ocean. Of sex.

Kellen released a sensual sigh, and it took every shred of willpower she possessed not to tackle him to the ground, straddle him, and show him the rhythm of her body. She'd never been with a musician before. She'd lusted after Pierre and imagined him making love to her—taking her virginity—but nothing had ever come of that infatuation. Not one of her few lovers had possessed the soul of an artist. Was that why she was so uncharacteristically fast around Kellen? Was it the spiritual connection between the musical part of their beings that made her want him at any cost, or was it just because he was so damned easy on the eyes?

No, it had to be more than that. She
felt
him. Even in the dark, she was under his spell, so it couldn't be only his looks.

So how did she get him to move beyond the dead woman who'd been lucky enough to win his heart? She didn't care if Kellen broke his vow to what’s-her-name; his fidelity ran so deep it was a liability. But she did care if her come-ons hurt him. She didn't want to hurt him. She wanted to get lost in him. She wanted him to show her his rope-tying art and how letting go of her control to him could be freeing. She wanted to know all of him—good and bad, spiritual and physical. She wanted him.

So if she had to squirm around on this bench unfulfilled all night, she'd do it. The worst he could do was leave her here alone.

When she reached the end of the piece, she allowed the last note to ring. This was her best work, she decided. Like the melody that had won the Grammy, this composition rang true, as if the notes had always been inside her and had just been looking for an outlet. Kellen had drawn them from her subconscious. She didn't know if he realized his influence.

"Thanks for helping me with the song," she said quietly.

“Is it finished?”

“Mostly.” A bit of that old anxiety twisted in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it wasn’t as good as she thought it was. “Does it sound incomplete?”

"It's perfect," he said breathlessly.

She breathed a sigh of relief.
Perfect.
That’s what she’d been going for. "I don't think I could have done it without you. Do you want me to give you credit as cowriter?"

"No," he said. "I didn't do anything but listen."

And apparently that was exactly what she’d needed. His presence had helped. The undeniable sexual attraction she felt for him had reached deep inside her and unleashed a daring and incredibly sensual force within her—one she had never recognized existed, but welcomed.

"Dawn," Kellen whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any rope? Something soft that won't damage your skin."

The surge of moisture between her legs was accompanied by a soft moan. Was he really going to tie her?

"There's a decorative rope along the banister around the upstairs loft," she said. "It has seashells and little red starfish hanging from it, but they’ll come off easily. Will that work?"

"It will have to."

Dawn stumbled as she rose from the piano bench. "I'll get some candles. You get the rope. My bedroom is at the top of the stairs on the right. I’ll meet you there."

"Not on your bed," he said. "On the piano."

Dawn’s womb clenched and her mouth dropped open. A piano didn't sound like the most comfortable place to be tied up or tied down—she still wasn't positive what tying entailed—but it sounded sexy as hell. She bit her lip and nodded, not sure if he could see the gesture in the dark, but if she spoke, she was certain any words would come out as one long moan of longing. Days spent imagining her piano teacher making love to her on the lid of her daddy’s baby grand hadn’t prepared her for the impact of those three words—
on the piano
—spoken from Kellen’s lips. Like every woman, she’d lusted after men, but not like this. Not with body and mind. Not to this degree. This was completely new for her, and the strength of it made her quiver in places she didn’t know could move on their own accord.

She bumped into him as she attempted to find the kitchen. He caught—and held—her loosely by both arms. She felt his body heat, but he didn’t drag her against him the way she wished he would. He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t grab her ass to crush her mound against his erection. Oh God, why wasn’t he doing any of those things? All of those things?

Oh, please, Kellen.

“Are you sure about this?” he said, close to her ear.

If he hadn’t been holding her arms, she probably would have sunk to the floor.

“Does it hurt?” she heard herself ask. Did she care? Some part of her did, apparently, but the primal part of her that he’d awakened didn’t give a fig if she felt discomfort.

“Not at all,” he said. “Being bound is a physical experience, but it affects most people psychologically as well. Being helpless will probably push you out of your comfort zone. If you’re not sure you want to do this, you need to say so now. If you back out once I get started, I’m not sure I’ll survive. I need to see my work finished. This has become a spiritual ritual for me. It’s… it’s hard to explain. I will stop if you make me, but I’d rather not start if you have reservations.”

She wanted to understand his words by experiencing his spiritual ritual for herself. “I’m sure. I don’t have reservations.”

He drew her against him at long last and gave her a friendly hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She melted against him, pressing her palms against his back to draw him closer. She wanted more than a friendly embrace. She wanted some heat. Passion. She sensed it in him. How did she unleash it? She turned her face into his neck and couldn’t resist rubbing her lips against his flesh.