Unleashed: Volume 2 (Unleashed #2) (2 page)

I made it there,
closing the door and locking it behind me. Splashing cold water on my
face, I tried to clear my head. I closed my eyes and pressed into a
white hand towel, soft against my skin, and stayed like that for a
minute steadying my breath.

It all felt too much.
I’d come here seeking his help, knowing it was risky, but I’d had
no idea to what extent. I’d never imagined myself in this position,
faced with having to choose whether or not to offer myself up for a
week to the man who already held such power over me. I never would
have believed I’d be so tempted to say yes.

I was older now so I
guess I’d thought I’d be wiser, more in control. I’d dismissed
my earlier feelings as teenage infatuation. I didn’t think Declan
would still affect me so strongly. But he made me absolutely crazy.
It might even be worse than it ever had been before. It shouldn’t
be possible, but it was. I’d been a fool to think otherwise.

I opened my eyes to an
expanse of white marble. In the mirror, a trashy skank escaped out of
a bar brawl looked back at me. Hair sprung every which way, lips
swollen from rough kisses, I wore nothing but a bra since my shirt
had been torn clean off.

What did everyone think
down in the bar? Declan had barreled his way through, shoving chairs
and men aside like a predator pouncing on its dinner. Thankfully he
hadn’t punched that guy who’d had his arm around me. He hadn’t
had to, the Ken doll had shrunk away.

Trish must have lost
her mind. Declan had made quite a scene, tossing me over his shoulder
like a warrior claiming his prize after a battle. I remembered the
longing in Trish’s voice when she said she wanted a night with him.

Damn, was she right. I
exhaled, hands on my stomach. Declan was all that. I could still feel
his hands on me, the roughness of his palm followed by a soothing
caress. Oh God did I want him.

In the mirror, I had to
admit, though I looked like I’d been through a tornado and a wolf
attack I also looked…alive. Eyes bright and shining, lips plump and
parted. He’d woken me up. I’d been sleepwalking day to day for a
long, long while. Now, every fiber of my being was tingling and
buzzing, craving his next touch.

Part of me wanted to
just let go, be reckless, allow myself to do this. I was so sick of
playing it safe, doing what was expected, stoically meeting whatever
challenges life threw my way. And there’d been so many challenges
these past few years, sickness and death and bankruptcy. I was only
24 but sometimes I felt like those numbers had been reversed. I
wanted to be wild, for just one week, and have the freedom to not
care.

But that was exactly
the problem. I did care. I brought my palms down against the cold
marble.

I could already feel it
starting again with Declan, the magnetic way he drew me to him, the
attachment welling up deep within me. I did care about him. I always
had. Pretending I could do one week, a simple business transaction,
keeping feelings and emotions out of it? That was impossible. No way
it could happen.

I shook my head. There
was no way I could let myself fall for him again. The first time
around, the crash and burn had been so painful. This time around, I
was pretty sure the damage would be irreparable.

Drawing up to my full
height, I redid my whacked-out ponytail, smoothing it down to the
best of my ability and tucking loose strands behind my ears. I needed
to walk out there and tell him that this was a mistake. It didn’t
matter if he was about to bail out my ranch, this was too much for me
to risk. I would get the keys to my truck and leave the city. Now.

Out in the main room,
Declan stood at his expansive window looking like an ad for some
expensive, imported liquor. The set of his jaw, the black sweep of
his hair, the broad muscle of his shoulders, everything about him
conveyed power. He looked down at the city, the king in his castle,
ruler of all he surveyed.

“I think…” I
began, hating the hesitancy that instantly crept into my voice. “I’m
going to…” Glancing down, I realized I’d need a shirt if I was
going to head down and out of the building. A shirt that hadn’t
been ripped in two.

He looked over, his
dark gaze beckoning. “Come here, Kara.”

I exhaled with
frustration. “Declan, I don’t know what’s happening here. I
don’t know anything when I’m around you. It’s like I completely
lose my mind.”

He continued to watch
me, his eyes smoldering. To a casual observer he might have looked
like a man of leisure relaxing in his den. But I saw the tightly
coiled heat, the animal within waiting, demanding more. My pulse
jumped.

“Come here,” he
repeated, his voice silky with sin.

“Declan.” I reached
internally for the script I’d prepared in the bathroom. “This has
all been a mistake. A big, crazy mistake. I really can’t do this.”

“Kara.” His voice
was rough and deep. I loved the way he said my name, a carnal caress.

“I can’t think when
I’m around you!” I cried.

“You’re thinking
too much.”

I gave a shaky laugh.
“I don’t think that’s my problem.” Caught in the burning heat
of his gaze, I felt breathless.

“Come here.”

Why did my legs betray
me, taking steps over to him? And why could I already feel heat
building in me, a pulsing throb deep in my core?

He put his drink down
on a table, watching me the whole time. I stood facing him, trembling
and exposed. He stood close, so close I could almost feel him as his
eyes raked over me. I felt stripped naked though I still wore my
skirt and bra. I shook slightly, half with fear, half anticipation.

He didn’t touch me,
but his words stroked me as he whispered in my ear, “You need to
come, Kara. You’re so close. You need it so much.” Then he
brushed a knuckle so gentle, so light against the lace of my bra over
my nipple. My knees nearly buckled from the slightest contact.

“That’s it,” he
coaxed me. “Let yourself feel this. Let yourself have what you
need.” He brought his lips to my throat, kissing and licking me
where I felt so sensitive. Then he stood back, watching me pant.

He appraised me as if I
were his acquisition, his to do whatever he wished for one whole
week. He fixed on the rise and swell of my breasts. Under his
scrutiny, I could feel the ache and pull, my traitorous nipples
peaking again, answering his desire with unmistakable arousal.

Low and controlled, he
said, “We’re going to begin your training now, Kara. You’ve
been naughty. Now you’re going to take your punishment.”

His words made me gasp.
And more. My brain wanted to fight, but my sex clenched, growing
slick in response. I’d never felt like such a lunatic, such a gulf
between thought and action.

Not since six years
ago. Declan made me that way. He captivated me like no other.

“Hands on the back of
the couch. Now.” The intensity of his gaze, the raw power throbbing
through his muscled body made me quiver. This made no sense. I had no
idea what he would do to me.

But I couldn’t
resist. I never could with him. With Declan, my answer had always
been yes. No matter that it didn’t make sense, no matter the risk,
everything in me said,

“Yes.”

The word slipped out
from my parted lips, barely a whisper, stealing out into the space
between us, binding me to him.

Kara

Then

Mashing up an old
banana into a chipped mixing bowl, I told myself this was totally
normal. Choosing to stay home on a hot Saturday night in late June to
bake banana bread—that was what most 18-year-olds were doing
tonight, right? I definitely wasn’t losing my mind, blowing off my
boyfriend to bake bread like a 1950s housewife. And I most definitely
wasn’t thinking about walking down to Declan’s cabin—whom I
happened to know was also at the ranch tonight—and using
fresh-baked banana bread as a pathetic ploy to go visit. Definitely
not.

Mandy had called me a
couple of hours ago, pissed off as usual. Seemed I couldn’t do
anything right these days.

“You’re not
coming?” Her voice had reached an octave previously only recorded
from dolphins. “I thought we had a deal!”

She had a lame plan to
try to seduce one of Bruce’s friends who’d been sleeping with
some other girl who was supposedly her friend. I was supposed to be a
decoy in some way. I hadn’t listened too closely. You couldn’t
get too involved with Mandy and her schemes.

“I have a headache,”
I’d offered lamely. Same excuse I’d given Bruce. He’d taken it
fine, told me to take a couple Advil and get some rest. He really
wasn’t a bad guy. And, honestly, he wasn’t all that
head-over-heels for me, either. He was heading off to U Montana in a
month and in his head he was already there. I wasn’t putting out.
Prom night hadn’t gone down as he’d hoped. So really I was just
his hometown girl, expiration date almost passed.

We were about to go our
separate ways, and though we both knew it was ending, neither of us
made the effort to declare it. What was the point? He was only around
for a few more weeks and those weeks were all about hanging out with
our mutual friends. What was the point of upsetting things, turning
over the apple cart when you didn’t have to? It wasn’t as if I
was going to date anyone else anyway.

Declan had absolutely
no interest. I knew that. He’d made that perfectly clear. I’d
seen him in town the other day with yet another skank. He was a
regular skank magnet. Whether they found him or he found them, I
didn’t know, but whenever I saw him out and about he had some
trashy girl draped all over him.

The one I’d seen him
with the other night had spider webs tattooed all down the side of
her leg. Spider webs. Did Declan like that? Well, clearly he did
because he had his tongue down her throat. Mandy plus a couple of
other girlfriends and I had been driving around, living it up like we
did most nights. Declan and the spider web girl had been outside a
local dive, making out against his truck in the parking lot.

We’d all gagged and
pretend barfed like it was the grossest, lamest thing we’d ever
seen. Only I actually wished it was me pressed up against his truck.

I was clearly losing my
mind.

I poured the bread
batter into a pan, then popped it into the oven. These basic tasks I
could still do. It was everything else I sucked at.

I had to forget
entirely about that mortifying, unspeakably embarrassing incident in
Declan’s truck. It had happened a month ago. But I still thought
about it all the time.

Had he actually taken
me over his knee and spanked me? Given me, an 18-almost-19-year-old a
spanking? Like I was a toddler?

And here’s where I
made myself blush even standing alone in the privacy of my own
kitchen. My stomach flipped, my hands started to shake when I
remembered how much I had liked it. I’d loved it.

The feel of his rough,
warm palm coming down on my ass. How strong he was, the way his bicep
had bulged under the sleeve of his t-shirt. His smell. The chafe of
his jeans against my bare thighs.

The shock and sting of
that smack, when his hand had first come down. Tears had sprung to my
eyes. My lips had parted, no sound coming out at first. I didn’t
know what was happening. I was furious, ashamed.

And then. Then the heat
built up. I could hear his breathing, rough and ragged. I could hear
the low sound he made when his hand came down on my skin, a deep huh
in his throat. It was just us, inside the cab of his truck, and I was
completely under his control. He had me right where he wanted me and
I was helpless.

Before I could think,
before I could process anything that was happening, my body started
responding. My heartbeat picked up, my breathing accelerated, my
hands grabbed onto the armrest in his truck. As he smacked me full
across the ass, I pressed into him and felt his hardness, the length
of him straining against the crotch of his jeans. I wriggled against
him, wanting to feel more, needing it.

I tried not to think
about it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. His hand on me,
the pressure of his palm. How his initial act of frustration and
annoyance had suddenly turned into intimacy. The low, throaty moan
that had escaped from my throat.

His hand had frozen.
I’d frozen too, barely breathing. It was as if both of us could
still hear my moan, like it was echoing in his truck. And then he’d
thrown me away like I repulsed him. The moment was over before it had
even begun. He’d driven us back to the ranch, not a word exchanged
between us.

We’d barely said a
word to each other in the intervening weeks other than a cursory
“hello.” And even that was only when he was with the other guys.
Even then he wouldn’t really say a full hello, just an infuriating
nod underneath the big cowboy hat he always wore. Damn it, I wished
the strong silent type didn’t have so much sex appeal.

In a sane universe, I
wouldn’t have enjoyed getting spanked. I wouldn’t still be
thinking about it, about Declan all the time. I would be out with my
perfectly normal, perfectly boring high school boyfriend doing
something dumb I found perfectly engrossing.

But this was not a sane
universe. Everything had tipped on its axis since Declan had arrived
in my life. The only thing left to do was cling on and try to find
new footing on this entirely new surface.

And bake banana bread.

Checking on it, I found
it was already time to take it out. I set it down on a hot pad and
took out the cooling rack. Taking a butter knife, I nestled it gently
between the edge of the bread and the pan. It felt loose enough.
Small things, routines, calmed me. Baking bread. I did it well, I’d
done it for years. I could still do it now.