Read Tearing Down Walls (Love Under Construction Series Book 2) Online

Authors: Deanndra Hall

Tags: #Romance, #drama, #Erotica, #erotic romance, #mystery

Tearing Down Walls (Love Under Construction Series Book 2) (49 page)

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Laura said, then turned back to what had started out as peeled carrots but had turned into carrot slaw.

“McCoy?” Vic said, standing and pointing toward the front door. Steve frowned at him.

“Bye, Laura. Call if you need anything.” Laura nodded, and Vic followed Steve. When they reached the door, Vic reached out and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“I want to thank you for continuing to look into this thing with Laura. It means a lot to her, so it means a lot to me,” Vic said, and he extended his hand to Steve.

Steve took it and shook it, then held it. “Hey, I know I piss you off, but I’m glad you’re doing so well. I was worried about you there for a little while,” he said, smiling at Vic.

“Thanks, man. You drive me crazy, but I think deep down you’re a pretty decent guy. Although if I were your sub, I’m pretty sure I’d kill you in your sleep,” Vic chuckled.

“By the way, what’s going on between you and Butler?” Steve asked.

“It’s a work in progress, you know? Maybe someday soon we’ll figure it out.” Vic looked back toward the kitchen where Laura was still hacking at something. “Between you and me, I’m crazy about her. Have been for awhile. But you know how she is. I’m just trying to get through that wall, you know?”

“Yeah, good luck with that, big guy. Nobody’s been able to break into that vault yet. That woman, she’s the toughest lady I’ve ever met, and I have a lot of respect for her. Any guy who manages to break into that is lucky.”

“Speaking of which,” Vic said, lowering his voice even more, “could I use the dungeon sometime? Maybe during the day?”

“Of course,” Steve said, patting Vic’s shoulder. “Anytime you want. Do whatever you need to do. And good luck.”

“Thanks. I’m afraid I’ll need it,” Vic said, glancing back into the kitchen. “And one more favor? If you see Evie in there again, have one of the guys call me and put her on the phone. It’s important that I talk to her.”

“I’ll do you one better. How ‘bout I call her from the membership roster, give her your number, ask her to call you?”

“Perfect! Thanks.”

Steve watched Vic’s face; he’d never seen Vic more serious. “I see that. Consider it done.” Steve waved as he walked to his car.

After he saw Steve off, Vic made his way back into the kitchen to find a mess. The carrots they’d bought the day before were a shredded disaster on the counter. “Hmmm. Those carrots make you mad? Because if they did, I’ll be careful not to do the same thing.” When he walked up behind her and put a hand on each of her hips, Laura darted away and across the room toward the sink.

“Laura,” Vic demanded, his voice slipping into Dom mode, “talk to me. Right now. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answered, turning on the water.

He crossed the room and reached around her to turn the water off, then growled, “That’s a lie. You tell me right now – what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she repeated. “None of my business.”

“You’re working on another spanking. Start talking.” When Laura took a good look at his face, she saw he wasn’t kidding. “And for the record, if it concerns me, it
is
your business. So spill it.”

When she wouldn’t answer, Vic took her by the arm and dragged her into the den. They reached his recliner and Laura shrieked, “No spanking! Okay, okay, I’ll talk!” Vic plopped down into the recliner but, instead of yanking her down to drape her over his lap, he just pulled her down to sit in it and wrapped his arms around her. She felt very, very safe sitting there with him, and she relaxed.

“Yes?” he asked.

Laura pushed out a deep sigh. “It’s just that when Steve started talking about the club . . .”

Vic chuckled. “I knew it! I knew that’s what it was. What bothered you, little one?” Laura didn’t answer. “Be honest: Does it bother you to think about me being with other women?”

Laura’s face burned. Did it really bother her? She
had
asked him what it would take to get him to stay away from the club. She mumbled something under her breath.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you. What was that?” Vic asked, knowing full well what she’d said.

“I said yes!” she barked. “Yes, it bothers me. I don’t know why, but it does. There – happy?” she asked, pouting.

Vic kissed her forehead. “Yes. That makes me very happy. So let me ask you something: Does that mean you’d like to move forward with the possibility of a physical relationship with me? We talked about it a little bit at the warehouse, but I’d like to know if that’s where this is going.”

She knew he wouldn’t let her out of it – she’d have to answer him, and she’d have to be honest. After she’d drawn in a deep breath and let it out, she mumbled, “Yes, I think so, but I don’t know how I’d . . .”

“You let me worry about that. It’s my job to make you feel comfortable with me. But you’ve got to trust me. You told me before that you trusted me. Do you still?”

“Yes. Completely.” Laura looked right into his eyes and found something there that warmed her chest and made her mouth water.

“Then I’ve made my decision: I will be going back to the club, but only to provide discipline for those who ask for it. No more private sessions; no more sex. Will you be able to live with that?” he asked.

Laura gave a slow nod. “I don’t like it, but I can live with it. But this discipline, isn’t there sex with that?”

“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: No. Not usually. But I have something I need you to see, if she’ll consent to letting you watch. And if she will, it’s not optional for you: You’ll have to do this. It’s part of the process. I’ve committed to no sex at the club for you. Will you commit to doing this for me and for yourself?”

“What am I committing to?” she asked.


That
is where you’ll just have to trust me. Can you do that? For our future?”

They had a future together? Laura got it: They had a future together. All she had to do was trust him. “Yes. I trust you. If it will help us move forward, I’ll do my best to trust you.”

“Baby, that’s all I ask,” Vic told her. For the first time, Vic thought they might actually make it.

Laura was cleaning up from dinner and Vic was resting in the den when he thought about his burner phone. He hadn’t seen it since they were holed up in the warehouse. Keys in hand, he went to the Mustang and rooted around.

The phone was under the seat, and it was dead. He plugged it into the dash, powered it on, and stared at the screen in disbelief.

Calls. Over fifty of them, and about half of those had messages. And all from Miranda.

Uh-oh. What the hell?
He listened to the first few. They were short, but after that they got longer. At first she just wanted him to call, sometimes whining or pouty, but as they progressed, they became longer and more intense, almost demanding that he call. She reminded him of the time he’d spent with her at the club, and then started detailing the way he’d touched her, kissed her, held her head while she went down on him, how he’d bound her and tormented her before he fucked her. Something in her voice made his stomach knot up. He needed to talk to Steve, figure out what to do. He’d do that – tomorrow.

T
ony called bright and early on Saturday morning to ask if Vic and Laura would come to Sunday dinner. Then Vic hung up and looked down at Laura. She hadn’t moved while he was talking to Tony. “Hey, sleepyhead! Good morning!” he whispered to her.

“Whaaa . . . huh?” she groaned, looking at the clock. “It’s Saturday. What the hell?” She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“I want to go shopping today. Let’s get up and get some breakfast so we can hit it hard. Whaddya think?”

“You’re a guy and you want to go shopping? Hell yeah. This I’ve gotta see,” she grinned up at him.

She’s got no idea what I’m up to,
Vic thought, almost laughing out loud.
This isn’t going to go the way she thinks – at all!

On the way to the mall, Vic talked to Laura about going to Tony and Nikki’s the next day. She thought about it for a few minutes, then told him that she’d like to go. It had been a long time since she’d been to their house for a happy occasion, and it sounded like a nice way to spend the day.

“By the way, what are you shopping for today?” Laura asked when they got to the mall.

“You.” Vic didn’t even crack a smile.

She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Huh? And what do you mean by that?”

“You’ll see!” He smiled and took her hand. She didn’t snatch it back, but he wondered if she’d let him hold it when they were finished with their little excursion.

He headed straight for one of the more expensive retailers and made a beeline for the ladies’ department. A rack full of dresses caught his eye. “What size do you wear?”

Laura’s mouth fell open and she stared at him like he had three heads. “Um, an eight? I think?”

“You don’t know what size you wear?” he asked her, pulling a dress off the rack and holding it up to her.

“Not right off. I mean, I don’t buy that many clothes, and most of them are the small-medium-large variety, so I . . .”

“Yeah. I can tell. We’re going to change that. You’re going to start dressing like a lady.” He put the dress back and pulled two more off the rack. “Here. Go try these on. And come out so I can see them.” She just stood there, so he shoved the hangers into her hands. “Well, go on! What the hell are you waiting for?”

Laura didn’t know what to think, so she went to the dressing room and picked out a booth. She pulled off her sweater, tee-shirt, and baggy jeans, and looked at the first dress. It was deep blue and cut kind of low, lower than she was used to. She was afraid some of her scars would show under it, but she put it on anyway. They did show, but just a few of them, and the dress looked nice enough. It wasn’t something she’d choose for herself, and she wondered what he’d say when she walked out.

She tiptoed out of the dressing room and Vic was right there, waiting. “Hmmm. A little too big. I’ll get a smaller size for you. But otherwise, it looks good. So how do you . . .” he started to ask, and she assumed he wanted to know what she thought, but instead he finished with, “. . . feel in it?”

The question caught her off guard. What did he mean, how did she feel in it? She looked down at it. “I guess it’s comfortable enough.”

“That’s not what I mean. Go back in there and look at yourself from a distance in the mirror at the end of the hallway. Take a good, long look, baby. Try on the other one, get back out here, and tell me how you feel about it.”

Laura disappeared into the dressing rooms and caught sight of herself in the big mirror at the end of the hall. It felt weird to see herself wearing a dress. She never wore them, so she took a hard look, and she realized she’d just let herself go, hadn’t paid any attention to her hair, or makeup, or jewelry, or anything, in years. The less attractive she was, the less attention she got, and no one tried to get to know her if she was frumpy and plain. Turning from side to side, she took a good look. Maybe she didn’t look too bad.

When she came out in the other dress, Vic let out a long, low whistle. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” he said, an almost sinister grin on his face. “So, how did you feel seeing yourself in the other dress? And this one? Thoughts?”

“I don’t know what to think.” Her face was blank. “I don’t wear stuff like this.”

“That’s going to change. You’re going to start dressing like you care about yourself.”

“But I don’t think . . .”

“Hey,” Vic stopped her. “Remember, you said you trusted me?”

“Yeah?”

“So trust me. Here. This is the first one in a six. Go.” He handed her the hanger and back she went into the dressing room.

When she got the dress on, she scrutinized herself in the mirror. It was tight, so tight that it was form-fitted to her and it showed every curve, bump, and hollow. Laura was horrified. Everyone would look at her in a dress like that, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She slouched back out of the dressing room to find Vic still standing there. “Damn, woman! That is one fine dress!”

Laura scowled at him. “It’s too tight. You can see . . . everything. I don’t want . . .”

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