WrappedAroundYourFinger (11 page)

He tried to take it from her. “Stay with me,” he said
softly.

She jerked her luggage away from him. “I can’t. I have a
life, Banner. May not seem like much of one to someone like you, but I’m okay
with that.”

“Stay with me. I know last night was difficult.”

“Chalk it up to PMS, whatever. Like I said, it was fun. I
had a good time. If you ever need a backup sushi model, gimme a call,” she said
with believable nonchalance as she made her way to the front door.

Damn she was good, but he knew better. She was afraid, and
she was angry and she hid it very well behind her casual tone and red lipstick.
Exacting Matt’s punishment followed by such a profound emotional release had
been too much for her. She’d been so open, so free. He loved seeing her that
way. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was stripped down, soul bared,
heart open, but she wasn’t ready to hear it yet. He had to let her go.

Indie flung the front door open and dragged her luggage
across the porch and to her car. It was petty and childish, but he couldn’t
bring himself to help her make her escape. And that was exactly what it felt
like as she rushed to her car as if she’d been set on fire, as if she were
escaping him. She shoved her bags into the trunk, not sparing even a glance in
his direction.

She needed time to process everything that had happened and
she needed to be away from him to do it. He owed her at least that. He had to
let her go.

He swore under his breath as he watched her get behind the
wheel, slam the car door and start the engine. She waved as she backed out of
his drive. He mustered up a smile for her, his little submissive.

Now all he could do was hold on to the hope that she would
come back when she was ready or so help him, he’d drag her back kicking and
screaming.

* * * * *

It was a beautiful morning to enjoy coffee outside by
Jared’s pool. Banner couldn’t seem to gather the genuine appreciation as he sat
across from his longtime friend. One of the service submissives poured them
each a cup of coffee.

“You didn’t come over just so you could admire my good
looks,” Jared said with a smirk.

Banner rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to make this easy
on me are you?”

“If you wanted easy you’d have gone elsewhere. So spill it.
This have something to do with that new little sub you put through the wringer
last night?”

“You already know it does. Go ahead, tear me a new one,”
Banner muttered with a sigh.

“Before I do that, how new is she?”

Banner scrubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw. “Not even out
of the womb.”

Jared shook his head. “And you put her through a forced
orgasm scene at a party. You should know better.” Jared leaned back in his
chair and sipped his coffee. “So tell me the story.”

Jared was right. He’d pushed Indie too hard too fast. It was
his responsibility to protect her, make her feel safe and instead he’d
frightened her. He should have known better, but he’d wanted,
needed
, to
make his mark on her emotionally.

“She was a replacement model for Craving for Death. The
centerpiece actually and she was stunning, absolutely perfect. I knew from the
moment she looked at me that she was submissive. She’s a natural, Jared. The
way she responds to me… I’ve looked for that—for a submissive like her—for as
long as I’ve been a part of the kink community.”

“So you thought throwing her into the deep end was the way
to go? Brilliant thinking there, Banner.”

“No. It wasn’t like that. Well, it
was
like that, but
she was insistent that we stay casual. She had this wall built around her and I
needed to breach it.”

“Breach it? I’m pretty sure you knocked that fucker down.
Knowing you, it was on purpose, you sly bastard. You knew she’d run. If this
backfires on you, it would serve you right.”

Banner threw Jared a cold glare.

“She’s it for you, isn’t she?” Surprise wasn’t something
Banner often heard in Jared’s voice, but there it was.

“I don’t know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “But I
want the chance to find out.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“She needs a little time to digest everything that’s
happened and then I think she’ll come around.”

“And what if she doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll just have to go get her and spank her ass until
we come to an understanding.”

* * * * *

“What is that god-awful racket?” Aimee came shuffling into
the kitchen. Her short blonde hair stuck out in random places all over her
head. It looked as if she’d cut it with hedge trimmers.

Indie turned her mixer off and swiped a taste of the cake
batter with her finger. “Needs more cardamom. Morning, Aims. Coffee?” She
reached for the French press and poured Aimee a cup. Indie really wasn’t in the
mood for a heart-to-heart with her roommate, but there was no way Aimee would
let her off the hook, not after she’d just been busted making cupcakes.
Cupcakes were standard breakup fare in their house.

Aimee grabbed the mug from her and added sugar and milk.
“You’re home early and you’re baking. Sweetie, what happened?” she asked as she
sat down at the scuffed and stained laminate kitchen table.

“Nothing happened. It’s just over that’s all. You look
tired. Late night?” Indie put another dash of cardamom into the mixer bowl then
flipped the switch.

“I had an appointment that ran late. Guy decided he wanted
to sit for more than just the outline. Don’t try to change the subject either,
Indigo Hartley. I may be a zombie in the a.m. but I’m a fuckin’ smart one.
Those are chai spice cupcakes, aren’t they?” Aimee narrowed her eyes and waved
her spoon at Indie. “You only make those when it’s serious.”

Yeah, Indie wouldn’t get out of this kitchen without
spilling her guts. It seemed as if she were doing that an awful lot these days.

“Was he a dick? Did he hurt you? I’ll fuckin’ put my foot in
his ass if he did,” Aimee muttered before she took a sip of her coffee.

Indie didn’t want to face the feelings that would come with
telling Aimee. It was much easier to stuff it all down if she didn’t talk about
it. She sighed with all the weariness she felt as she shut off the mixer and
leaned against the counter.

“Hon, come sit down and talk to me. You know you’ll feel
better after you get it out. The cupcakes can wait.”

Indie grabbed the French press and her coffee mug then sat
down across from Aimee. “He asked me to stay.” She paused and added a teaspoon
of sugar to her coffee.

“He did?” Aimee asked, her eyes soft and dreamy.

“Yes, and to tell you the truth, Banner is nothing like I
thought he’d be. He’s this gentle dominating force. I know it sounds weird, but
I don’t know how else to put it. He’s not arrogant or egocentric. He’s actually
very thoughtful and intelligent. The dominance and submission stuff was…so much
more than I thought it would be. It was the craziest, scariest, sexiest, most
amazing couple of days I’ve ever had.” She took a sip of her coffee to shut
herself up.

Aimee leaned forward. “Oh I’m gonna need juicy details.”

Indie smirked. “You would say that.”

“Hey, let a girl live vicariously. I can imagine he’s a
Brandy instead of a Banner.”

“You have serious issues, you know that?”

Aimee rolled her eyes. “Pot, kettle? Get on with it
already.”

“Well, last night he took me to a play party, strapped me
down to an exam table and gave me more orgasms than I could count. Multiples,
Aimee. It was the most mind-blowing sexual experience of my life.” And Indie’s
clit throbbed to life at the memory.

“You fucking slut! Multiples? In public?”

“Can you believe it?”

Aimee scrunched up her face. “Let me see if I get this. He’s
kind, thoughtful, good looking, makes a shitload of money in a field you both
love, and the kinky bastard can make you come six ways to Sunday? I’m not
seein’ a problem here, sweetie.”

“The problem is…he scares the ever-loving shit out of me and
I’m mad at him. I broke down and cried like a baby after the scene at the
party. I couldn’t really tell you why. It just came flooding out. I never cry.
Never. He just…held me. Who does that? Oh, and you know what else? He made me take
off my blue dress and wash the makeup off my face in the first fifteen minutes
I was there! He thinks I hide behind my modeling persona.”

“Well don’t you?”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Honey, I am on your side. But be honest with yourself. You
love the makeup, the clothes, the rockabilly style, because generally no one
looks beyond that. No one sees the country girl from Jacksonville who used to
take care of her family when her mom took a mental vacation.”

With a hard glare, Indie got up and went back to making
cupcakes. What the hell did Aimee know anyway? She snatched the bowl from the
mixer and slammed it down next to the pan she’d already greased and floured.

“Go ahead and be pissed. But this is me talking here, your
best friend, roomie for the last five years. You know, miserable breakup
cupcake eating champion?”

Indie snorted. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” She turned back to
Aimee.

“That this guy has you wrapped around his little finger
because he can give you screaming orgasms and he sees you for who you really
are?”

Indie huffed. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Like I always say, life is too short for regrets. If you
have the chance to be happy, then why are you here making cupcakes?”

“I don’t know.” But she did know. She was afraid. She was
afraid that this could be what she’d always wanted. What she’d fantasized about
having. But she’d have to leave her safe little life behind to have it.

“Complete bullshit, Indie. You’ve taken big risks before and
they paid off. You broke away from your family to come down here, go to school
and live your own life. So live it. If you don’t give this a chance you’ll
always wonder. And besides, you can’t stay here with me and bake all the damn
time. I’ll get fat and who’s gonna want a fat gay tattoo artist?”

“With that hair? I have no idea.”

“Whatever, heifer, but seriously, you should call him or
something.”

“I can’t. I’m still pissed at him.” He’d had no right to
make her care about him when they’d only had a three-day agreement.

“If you say so. I’m gonna go shower. I have an early sitting
today,” Aimee said as she got up from the table. “Save me some of those
cupcakes.”

Chapter Nine

Indie pulled the last pan from the oven when she heard the
doorbell. “One sec,” she yelled.

Who in the hell was at her door at eight thirty in the
morning on a Monday? She threw the deadbolt and opened the door. Her heart
leapt into her throat at the sight of Banner Faust on her front porch. They
stood there for a few moments and just stared at one another. The intensity in
his turbulent blue eyes forced her to look down at her feet.

“Invite me in, Indie,” he said in that low, rough voice
she’d come to love so much.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Are we going to play this game?”

Indie raised her gaze to his and challenged him with a
glare. Yeah, it was a little petty, but she was mad at him right now. Anger was
easier than fear. It certainly felt better and so what if she wanted to hide
behind it?

Banner gave her a wolfish grin. “If you weren’t planning to
invite me in, you’d have already slammed the door in my face.”

Damn, he had a point. Indie gritted her teeth and held the
door open. “How did you know where I lived anyway?”

“Let’s just say that I got a phone call from a concerned
friend.”

Indie sucked a sharp breath through her teeth. Aimee, that
meddling… “The kitchen is through there. Please make yourself at home. I’ll be
back in just a sec.”

She left Banner standing there and stormed into Aimee’s
bedroom. “You want to explain yourself?” she asked her friend, trying to keep
her voice from rising to a shriek.

“Well you did tell me that if I was worried about you I
should call that number.” Aimee showed her the index card Banner had given to
Indie. “I was worried.”

“I am so going to pay you back for this,” Indie hissed as
she shut Aimee’s door.

“You’ll thank me later!” Aimee yelled.

Sure she would, right after she put Nair in Aimee’s shampoo.

Right now she needed to pull her shit together. Indie
straightened her apron and smoothed out her hair before she went to find
Banner. When she entered the kitchen, she stopped short. He stood, leaning
against the sink, one of her wooden spoons was in his hand and he had a wicked
gleam in his eyes. Now all she could think about was what it would feel like to
be spanked with it. She swallowed hard.

“I think we should talk,” he said as he tapped the spoon
against his leg.

How the hell was she supposed to concentrate on anything he
said? Anger! Yes, she was supposed to be angry with him. And she was, just
maybe not as much as she had been a few minutes ago.

“You know, I still have the full day according to our
agreement. You left early. Do you want to tell me why?” he asked in that quiet,
stern way that made her shiver.

She bit into her bottom lip, trying to figure out what to
say. Did he really want to know? A better question—did really she have the guts
to tell him?

“Indie, talk to me.”

“I’m mad at you. There I said it.” She paced in the small
space the kitchen offered, her bare feet slapping on the old linoleum. Her
honesty would have to come by way of anger, but damn it, she’d tell him. “You
had no right to go digging around in my head the way you did. We had a
three-day arrangement. Three days. It was supposed to be fun and casual. You
weren’t supposed to look deeper. Or make me look deeper for that matter.” Her
voice grew louder with each sentence.