out a loud moan. My wrist instinctively
grasped the board to keep upright. His
hips rotated in circular motions slowly
while his nails dragged lightly down my
back and sides.
The feeling of the rope fibers and
cold wood pressed against my skin only
added to the delicious sensation he was
creating. I had never allowed myself to
be restrained before. If asked, I would
most likely decline. Perhaps he knew
that and chose this as a way of
introducing me to it. The exotic element
of picking up the objects along our
voyage made it that much more special.
I felt his hand run along my spine
and into my hair before grasping a
handful and gently tugging back while
moving more aggressively. I didn’t know
how long I could hold this position, yet
it appeared indefinite. I imagined what it
looked like to him, so exposed and
vulnerable. I was completely at his
mercy, but the feeling of not being in
control did not make me afraid. With
him, it allowed me to let go. I tried to
withhold the scream of pleasure building
up in me, but another pull of my scalp
broke it free. I started to jerk against the
restrains that began to sear my skin and
could not stop.
His hands grabbed my hips and
drove deeply to satisfy his own urge.
Digging his fingertips into the flesh, I
knew he was close. I remained
motionless, taking in every movement he
made. Knowing he received so much
pleasure from my body pulled another
release from me along with his. Both of
us panted heavily for minutes while our
heartbeats gradually slowed down.
Shepard’s deft fingers unwound the
knots in the board and freed my wrist
and ankles. As I stretched to loosen sore
muscles, he walked back to the bag and
retrieved a small metal tin and a package
of cotton gauze.
He removed the lid to the tin and
lovingly rubbed the cinnamon scented
ointment along the burns that reddened
where the ropes were tied. At first it
stung, then immediately numbed from
whatever was in the balm. Gently
wrapping the gauze around, he kissed
each spot once finished.
“You shouldn’t have any marks by
morning. Just don’t take those off until
then. Depending on how bad it is, you
might need one more treatment.” He
spoke softly while putting the lid back
on the tin.
“Oh, I have something else for
you.”
I remained silent on the bed
watching him move about the small
cabin. A paper bag revealed a small
blue velvet box. He opened it and
removed a necklace. With a smile, he
placed it around my neck and secured
the clasp. I looked down and saw a large
coin set in a silver mounting. I had been
eyeing it in the gift shop earlier in the
trip and told Shepard the story about
where it came from.
My grandfather had a replica of the
ship that sank near the Florida Keys. It
was a Spanish Galleon loaded with
treasures bound for home. A storm
swept through the Caribbean and sank
the ship. After the salvage began, some
of the coins became available to the
public. I always wanted a piece of the
legendary Senora de la Esperanza, and
now it rested against my chest.
I started to weep at the sweet
sentiment. He had seen that I wanted it,
but I couldn’t justify spending so much.
“Shepard, you shouldn’t have. This was
really expensive. It’s beautiful.” My
hands rubbed the coin tenderly.
He crawled next to me and circled
the coin with his index finger. “Most
girls want diamonds and overpriced
purses; you want an important piece of
history. You more than deserve it. Now
you always will have a reminder of our
time here.”
I snorted at the purse comment.
“Please do not buy me that crap, ever.
This… this is incredible – thank you.” I
didn’t know what else to say. He knew I
was grateful for the gesture. “So, if I let
you do kinky things, you’re going to buy
me cool stuff? Doesn’t that make me
some kind of hooker?”
With a hearty laugh he replied,
“Doesn’t that make you a normal
girlfriend?”
My face dropped slightly.
Normal
girlfriend
. What was that?
Noting my change of demeanor, he
asked what I was thinking.
“I’ve only had one boyfriend, so I
don’t exactly know what’s normal. I just
know what I think is or isn’t right.” My
lips curled to the side in deep thought.
“Violet, don’t get mad, but what did
he do to you? You are a beautiful,
intelligent, funny girl. I don’t get it.”
My chin now started to quiver and I
turned away as the tears came. He knew
he was approaching dangerous territory,
but I’d rather he know now than be upset
later. I hated ruining such a beautiful
moment, yet the opportunity was ripe. I
held nothing back as he held me close.
The entire story of Connor Lewis tearing
me to the ground and why I vowed never
to fall in love again came rushing out
with every dirty detail. When I was
finished, he kissed the top of my head
and spoke with resolve.
“As long as I am breathing, Violet,
I will do everything in my power to
make sure you will never feel that way
again. I promise.”
I turned from my resting place
against his chest to meet his eyes. His
mouth came down softly over mine and
kissed me with determination. I knew he
wasn’t lying. I could only pray fate
could allow him to make good on that
promise.
Chapter 9 - Can
You Do This?
Shepard dragged the luggage onto
the landing and immediately walked up
the stairwell with me in tow. His hair
had developed vibrant blond streaks
from the week in the sun. Golden kissed
skin made his blue eyes glow that much
brighter underneath lush lashes. It was
still early afternoon, but as predicted, he
proved
insatiable.
Every
moment
cherished because I knew they were
limited; it was never long enough.
Being away together for a week
simply reinforced a bond that had long
been forged. A tangible friction rested
between us, despite both of our attempts
to ignore what it meant. He looked at me
occasionally as if I were going to
disappear into thin air, as if he could
sense my penchant for fleeing. I could
feel to my very core that he would never
hurt me the way Connor had done so
many times. I closed my eyes to banish
the ghost of the past. I refused to
associate any new sadness with past
memories. This was a longing caused by
the pending absence of love, not the
destruction caused when it goes wrong.
“Hey, come back.” His lips
returned my focus to where it should be,
on the here and now. I savored the flavor
of the fruit candies he’d munched on the
drive back, which lingered on his tongue
sweetly.
“You taste like rainbows,” I
giggled
His chest pushed me back into the
bedroom dresser, knocking over a
picture frame and causing a slight tink as
the brass disc hit the ground. Curiously,
Shepard turned and picked up the shiny
metal object.
“Why do you have zils?” Peering at
the item and then back to me, he quirked
his eyebrows upwards.
“I used to dance a long time ago.
Sometimes I still do when I am alone.
You would know that if you could see in
this window.”
With a wink, I leaned down to
remove my shoes and freed my aching
feet. A week of flip-flops and sandals
must have caused them to flatten in
rebellion of the heels I favored so much.
Without a word, he snapped the zil
tightly into his fist before bolting out the
door.
Okay.
Through the bathroom window, I
saw the light to his bedroom come on for
a moment before flickering back off.
Shortly after the downstairs door opened
and slammed shut, pounding steps
vibrated the wooden stairway.
“Want to tell me what you are
planning to do with that thing?” I
couldn’t help but smile at the violin in
his hands. I knew he played – very well,
in fact. I would open my windows in the
summer to hear him practicing rare
Paganini pieces while I worked on lab
data.
Holding his hands to his knees,
regulating his breathing, he huffed out.
“I want to watch you dance while I
play.”
The excitement in his voice was
electric. How could I deny such a simple
request?
“Okay, let me get my computer and
load a song. You can run through while I
change, deal?”
My mind started to reel at how
intriguing this was turning out to be. No
one had seen me dance in years. It was
one of the few things I could do to keep
me feeling grounded. However stressful
a day I had, I could move until I was
exhausted, physically working out what
was paining me mentally.
I pulled the song up and propped
the laptop on a chair for easy viewing.
The low hum of the first note being
pulled across the strings with the horse
hair bow sent shivers down my spine.
Each following tone was drawn with
precision. For never hearing it before,
his ability to translate it so perfectly lent
to his talent.
I plucked the purple and black coin
scarf out of the closet along with the
crushed velvet skirt that brushed my
ankles. An intricately embroidered
bodice fit tightly across my shoulders
with the lacing along the bust hanging
freely. I used my index finger starting at
the bottom to pull tight each crossing of
the ribbon. My other hand held the next
area together as the boning cinched my
ribs in tighter. Over a decade later and
the overflowing breast I had hoped for
as a girl still failed to appear. Small
mounds of flesh burst out from the top,
causing me to sigh in amusement. My
self-loathing dissolved the moment I first
stepped in front of a crowd. As I grew
older, I became not only accustomed to,
but also thankful of my smaller chest.
I sauntered out of the closet into the
bedroom and watched the biggest smile
grow across his face. Suddenly I became
nervous and self-conscious without
reason. Shepard turned off the lights and
lit a few luminaries that cast shadows
along the walls.
“What?” Doubt was creeping over
me under his watchful stare.
Shaking his head with a grin, he
went back to practicing the song that
took me back in time. A young girl
named Marianna walked the festival
with me. She was a little under fourteen,
but her skilled fingers with a bow
melted my heart. Just as Melissa took me
under her wing, I too cared for
Marianna. Her mother owned a floral
garland booth and would occasionally
sit nearby while oil painting to keep a
close eye on us. Considering that we
were just kids, our show made quite a
bit of money. As one of the few friends
similar in age, it was hard saying good-
bye when she left with her family at the
end. She would play the Turkish style of
music I picked for Shepard, called
Tsifteteli.
“Are you ready, Violet?” He pulled
the violin under his chin and waited for
my cue. Like a true performer, he took a
stance and became completely serious. I
wondered how he would play and watch
me at the same time. The small brass
cymbals fit snugly on my thumb and
index finger. Raising my hands above my
head, I clicked my fingers three times in
count for the song to begin. Shepard