Having Her: Lies We Tell, Book 2 (18 page)

Bugger. “Yes.”

His smile deepened and she couldn’t work out which was worse, the way his smile made her chest feel tight or the way him knowing she was disappointed made her feel exposed. Lifting a hand, he lazily reached for a lock of her hair, winding a strand through his fingers. “Good.”

It was pathetic how much that simple touch excited her. Quite pathetic.

His gaze drifted to the lock of hair he’d wound around his hand. “The blue is fading. I like it. See that you don’t dye it again.”

Kara shifted on him, uncomfortable. She’d gotten sick of the blue herself but had been meaning to try out a new purple shade she’d seen in a shop the day before, not go au natural. Her real hair color reminded her of too many bad things. Too many bad feelings.

Being different, being someone else was always easier.

She took one hand off his knee and reached out to pull her hair out of his grip. Only to have his fingers close around her wrist.

“What are those?” He was looking at her wrist, his voice losing its lazy, sensual edge, becoming sharp, demanding.

Oh fuck. Had he seen the scars?

“Nothing.” She twisted her hand out of his grip. No, she was not going to answer questions about those. Master or not, no effing way.

He said nothing but she could feel the weight of his stare. Pressing down on her.

Don’t ask. Please don’t ask.

His fingers released her. “On your knees, slave.”

Oh, thank God
.

She kept her gaze averted so as not to betray her relief, slipping off his lap and onto the floor, settling into the position that by now felt natural to her. At his feet.

“You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

Her shoulders tightened. Shit. Of course it was too good to be true.

“It was your birthday yesterday and you didn’t tell me.”

For a minute all she could do was stare at the floor in confusion. Okay, so not the scars but her birthday? What the hell did that have anything to do with it? And how did he know it had been her birthday anyway?

She heard Vin move, getting up from the couch, taking a couple of seconds to deal with the condom and put himself to rights if the sound of his zipper was any indication.

“I’m sorry, master,” she said. “It wasn’t important.”

“Correction, slave.” His long fingers gripped her chin suddenly, tipping her head back so she had no choice but to look up at him. There was a fierce expression in his gaze, intensity burning in the depths of his eyes. “I own you. Which means anything that concerns you also concerns me.”

She wanted to deny it, refute it. But that was Kara talking and she wasn’t being Kara right now. She was the slave and his.

“Yes, master,” she said thickly. “I’m sorry.”

His thumb caressed her lower lip. “I have something for you. For your birthday.”

Oh Christ. Please don’t say he’d bought her a present. A weird heaviness settled in her chest. Like a lump of clay sitting there, thick and large and immovable. She hated the sensation. How fragile it made her feel. As if she was made of glass and would shatter at a touch. She could handle a drink with Ellie, an offhand jokey toast to the suckiness of birthdays and how crap they were. But this was different. This was Vin, staring at her, giving her a gift. When no one had ever bought her gifts before.

She opened her mouth to say she didn’t want it, break character completely, but his thumb settled over her lip, pressing down, silencing her. “You’ll take it.” There was nothing but finality in his voice and how he knew she wanted to refuse she had no idea. “Remember, slave, you don’t get a choice. Now…” He took his hand away and stepped back. “Stay there. Don’t move.”

God. Kara waited on her knees, her heart beating oddly fast, watching as he turned and went out into the hallway, coming back a moment later with a long, flat box in his hand. The heavy lump in her chest got heavier.

Without any hurry at all, Vin opened the box and took out something, holding it up between his hands so she could see. A mesh collar of gold and bronze wires, intricately woven together, the clasp a small gold padlock. It glittered in the light through the windows as he carried it over to her, delicate and beautiful and like nothing she’d ever possessed in all her life.

“No.” The word spilled out of her before she could stop it, thick and hoarse with denial. Because she couldn’t accept it. Didn’t want it.

But Vin ignored her, coming over to where she knelt before dropping to his haunches in front of her. “Do you see this?” He turned the collar so she could see the padlock clasp. See the word engraved on it.
Mine.
“You’ll wear this because I’m your master and you’re my slave. Because you belong to me.”

Her eyes felt gritty, like there was sand in them. Her throat tight and raw. Kara could never accept this. But the slave could. The slave had to.

Fuck the slave. You want it, too, don’t deny it.

She closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of the collar glittering between his hands, too overwhelmed and conflicted to speak.

Mercifully he let her have her meager self-protection, not saying anything, but she felt the slave collar around her neck loosen and fall away, to be replaced by cool metal. Heard the click as he shut the padlock clasp.

Mine…

“Hold out your hand,” he ordered.

She did so and felt him press something into her palm. Cracking open an eye, she glanced down to see a small golden key sitting there. Clearly the key to the padlock. Which meant he was handing her the power to wear it or not.

You want to wear it. You never want to take it off.

God, she did. So much. The collar around her neck had a weight to it that had nothing to do with the metal. It was the weight of ownership, of claim. It felt like his hand resting there. Choosing her.

Mine.

That one word had so many meanings. It didn’t only refer to her being his but her
choosing
to be his. Her choice to wear this collar. Make it her own.

Mine.
Hers. Kara’s.

She couldn’t speak, didn’t trust her voice. He’d given her a gift and given it in the only way she could let herself accept it. And she couldn’t even speak to tell him how much it meant to her.

A long silence fell but she kept her eyes closed, her fingers clutching the key in her palm, struggling to breathe.

Then she heard him exhale softly. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, slave. Next time you’ll wear that collar and nothing else.”

Luckily she knew there was no response required so she just knelt there until she heard the sound of the front door slam.

After he’d gone, she let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, then opened her eyes and got to her feet. Still clutching the key, she went down the hall to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, looking at the delicate web of precious metal around her neck.

He was right, it did look good. She reached up a hand and touched it, brushing her fingers over the intricately woven mesh. It was so lovely, it really was. She’d never had anything so gorgeous.

Ah God, she’d always hated birthdays. Hated being given things. Hated any kind of attention or fuss made of her. It made her feel so vulnerable and she hated that too. And yet this collar didn’t make her feel vulnerable. No, she just felt…owned. Claimed. Like for the first time in her life she truly belonged to someone.

She leaned against the vanity, noting suddenly the dark circles under her eyes and a certain pallor to her skin. Weird. She’d been sleeping quite well the past few weeks and she’d put that down to getting regular sex. Especially since before she and Vin had started screwing, sleep had been difficult.

Absently stroking the collar around her neck, she looked down from the mirror to the box of condoms on the vanity. The empty box of condoms. Dammit, had they gone through that box so quickly? She had that stash in the lounge, but it wouldn’t hurt to double check that she didn’t have any more under the sink. Crouching, she pulled open the cupboard, poking around amongst the loo rolls, cleaning fluids and tissues, looking for any spare boxes she’d missed.

No condoms. But there was an empty box of tampons. For a moment she stared at it, trying to figure out if she needed to get those as well. How long had it been since she’d had her last period? She wasn’t the most regular chick in the world and didn’t keep track of it much.

Okay, so she’d had it a couple of weeks before the NZ Con with Ellie which made it…six weeks.

Kara swallowed. No, shit, that couldn’t be right. Could it? The last time she’d had wicked PMS not helped by yet another return to sender letter from her mother, so she and Ellie had gone out and got drunk. She’d got her period in the bar and had had to bug Ellie for some change for the tampon dispenser.

And yeah, that had been about six weeks ago.

She frowned at the tampon box. So she wasn’t all that regular but she’d never been quite
that
late before. What the hell was going on?

Are you sure you don’t know?

A lump of ice suddenly collected in the pit of her stomach. Oh no. Oh please God no. She and Vin had been careful. Every single time they’d used a condom. Every. Single. Time.

She couldn’t be pregnant. She just couldn’t be.

Kara stood, cold all over, forgetting entirely about the collar around her neck, feeling like she’d been in an earthquake and the ground hadn’t stopped moving yet. There was, obviously, only one way to check.

Half an hour and five pregnancy tests later, there was no denying it.

She was pregnant.

Happy fucking birthday.

Chapter Nine

Vin stared down at the plans spread out on his desk. As the door of his office shut behind Hunter, he let out a breath and cursed.

He’d spent all morning getting Lillian settled in her apartment, then he’d had to do shitloads of running around for the bank, not to mention getting his application into Auckland University’s School of Architecture in time for the deadline, and he now felt fucking exhausted.

It didn’t help either that he’d begun to feel pissed off with Hunter for getting to spend so much time with Ellie. At first he’d been grateful to his friend for providing somewhere for Ellie to crash before she flew out to Tokyo. But as time had gone on, and his own work had piled up, he’d begun to feel irritated about it. Okay, so maybe more than irritated. Possibly Hunter’s accusations about that making him jealous were right.

Vin kicked back his chair and sat, still staring sightlessly at the plans for his house. The house he’d been building when he could find the time. Between Lillian and his business, work had fallen behind majorly.

Just like his plans to spend some time with Ellie. And now he was jealous of his friend because Hunter was the one spending time with her when it should have been him.

And guilty because he was also looking forward to Ellie leaving since then he’d finally be free of the constant worry for her that always dogged him when Lillian was out in the community.

And pissed off because he felt guilty.

Christ, he was a moody bastard.

Vin leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. Shut his eyes.

His mood was so not helped by the fact that the more shit he had to do, the more he wanted to shove it all aside and go spend time with Kara. Lose himself in her. Indulge himself in the one thing in his life he had total control over.

He was still buzzing from the orgasm he’d had not a couple of hours earlier, could still picture her on him with her head thrown back, her lovely face lit up with ecstasy. Could still feel her body around him, holding him tight.

The scars on her wrist…

He frowned, the memory at odds with the hot sexiness of the moment. They hadn’t been big scars, just a few white lines. And she’d been extremely prickly when he’d asked her about them, making it obvious she didn’t want to talk about it. But then that was Kara, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to talk about anything. And that was okay, they both knew exactly what this relationship was all about. A fantasy. An escape. Being someone else for a time. So why he should want to know where those scars had come from was anyone’s guess.

What
had
been truly momentous though had been when he’d put that collar around her neck and pressed the key into her palm. The gold and bronze had looked amazing next to her skin, just as he knew they would. So beautiful and his, all his…

He shifted in his chair, hardening for her already.

God, he couldn’t wait till tonight. To see her greet him wearing nothing but that collar. Some days the promise of seeing her was the only thing that got him through the day.

There was a knock on his door.

Vin cursed again and opened his eyes. “Come in.” It was probably Tina with yet more issues with the electrical subcontractors. Man, he so wasn’t in the mood to deal with that crap today.

But it wasn’t Tina. It was Kara.

Instantly his whole body leapt into screaming life, hard and ready for action.

He put his hands on the arms of his chair and was up and out of it before he quite knew what he was doing.