Read Fight 2 Online

Authors: M. Dauphin

Fight 2 (6 page)

Chapter 11

Eddie

“I am pretty sure I heard you wrong, because there’s no way that makes sense,” my voice growls. I can’t think straight, I can’t breathe. I can’t make my legs move me back inside, I can’t stop staring at her. This beautiful woman has wrecked me.

“Unfortunately not, Tex. So fucking dumb.” Standing up, she wipes off her black pants and starts to walk towards me.

I should respond. I need to step aside to let her in, but I’m still staring at that crack in the damn baseboard that Tatum broke last year. He was moving a new couch up for me, and in the process must have hit it just right to crack it. Sure he could have fixed it but he is dead set on getting me out of this shithole apartment, always bitching that I make enough money off of him, I should be able to afford something nicer. I always laugh at him when he brings it up, not wanting to tell him that this is the nicest place I’ve ever lived.

“Hey. Earth to Eddie,” Red’s voice is worried. Shit, she should be worried.

“I can’t play these games, Red,” I whisper, still not looking at her. I can smell her from here, even though she’s just a few feet away. She smells so comforting, so perfect, so much of everything I need.

“And we won’t. Don’t let him get to you. I’ll straighten it up and it won’t happen again. Promise. Now please, I’m starving!” Her hand comes to my arm and rubs it before reaching up on her tip-toes to kiss me. A gentle peck, just letting me know she’s here.

I know she’s probably confused as fuck, that after my romantic as hell evening last night, both times marriage was brought up today I’ve clammed up. I know she will want to talk about it, but I can’t do that tonight. Shit, we just got past everything this weekend, I’m still getting used to the fact that I, in all reality, need this woman to function properly. When I know that she’s safe, when I know what she’s doing, I’m okay. I can function with my job properly, I’m focused. When I don’t know where she is, well that’s when my brain decides to go into full on panic attack mode, running through every possible scenario of horrible things that could be happening to her. This is why I chose to take this one day at a time, because I never know what tomorrow is going to bring, and I can’t promise a future when I’ve never had a future to look forward to. I’d love to be able to, but I’m not there yet.

“Pizza should be here soon,” I say as I close the door, taking a breath before facing her. I’m expecting her to be pissed that I obviously am not stable, but instead I see her perched on the arm of my grandma’s chair, smiling at me.

“So, Tex, tell me about these computers.” Her eyes scan over my work station I have set up in my living room.

I have a spare bedroom, but I couldn’t set up in there. For starters, these walls are insane and the Wi-Fi doesn’t reach as well in there, plus I would have to drill through the walls to get the cables I need in there, and I can’t do that to a place I’m renting. Add to it that my spare bedroom feels like a dungeon, spending all day working in a dungeon doesn’t sound fun to me. I’d much rather have the sunlight from the bay window in the kitchen, making me feel a little more alive.

“Uh, I work at them.” I smile, not really knowing what she’s asking.

“All day?” She slides down into my grandmother’s chair and curls her feet under her. So damn cute.

“Most days, yea. Sometimes I have to do leg work, but most days that’s where you will find me,” I tell her, not really wanting to talk about work, but happy that I can sidestep my minor meltdown earlier. “I set up in here to feel like I was a part of the world still. The sunlight helps.”

“Oh I know, I love my bay window too! I had one growing up, so it is sort of comforting.”

She goes silent, staring at nothing, really. Seeing her tucked into my grandma’s green and yellow, 70’s style chair, makes me think of when I used to visit her and we would sit in it to read.

“I like this chair. I mean...insanely comfortable.” She shifts around, then looks up at me and her eyes go wide with fear. “Please don’t tell me this is a Goodwill chair. I might look tough, but I really don’t want lice.”

I let out a huge laugh, shaking my head at her. Once I catch my breath from the laughing, I finally calm her fears, “No, it isn’t a lice ridden chair, Red. Jesus, I see how you really think of me now,” I jab.

“Not at all! I love buying second hand, just things that I can douse with bleach before using.” Backpedaling, she’s trying to make herself seem less of a snob. I don’t care, I totally agree with her.

“Agreed. Nah, that chair....” images come back from the night of my mom’s funeral, my dad didn’t want me and my sister at the house so he sent us to my grandma’s. She held me in that chair all night. It didn’t matter that I was about as big as her, it didn’t matter that I probably put her legs to sleep after sitting on her lap all night, she didn’t let go. “It was my grandma’s.”

“Oh,” Red whispers, trying to pick up on my sudden mood change. “Well, your grandma had wonderful taste.” She gives me a sweet smile, and when the buzzer comes from the intercom downstairs I send a silent thank you to grannie. Too much heavy shit in one weekend is known to break people.

“Good GOD Eddie, what did you get?!” She laughs as she holds the door open for me.

“What?” I ask innocently, though I know she’s referring to the four boxes and bag that I’m carrying up the stairs.

“That’s a hell of a lot of food.” She crosses her arms under her tits and I can’t focus anymore. “Stop staring, you’re drooling,” she adds in before moving to the kitchen to rummage through my shit, trying to find something to eat on.

Thing is, I enjoy the banter. Some guys would feel like their woman was bitching, but with Red I know that’s not it. I know she’s joking most of the time, at least I hope she is. Seeing her move around my kitchen is damn funny, though. Our apartments are mirror images of one another, but that doesn’t mean I keep my shit in the same place she keeps hers. She’s coming to realize this, though, and turns with a huff.

“Fine, I give. Paper plates, where are they?” She asks, hands resting on her hips.

“Sweetheart, I don’t use paper plates.” I laugh at her face as the realization sets in that I don’t have any.

Without saying a word, she leaves and heads across the hall. I can’t help but laugh at her. I have nothing against them, but I enjoy my food on a real plate. It makes me feel like I’m eating a little better when I have it on a real plate as opposed to a disposable paper plate.

Within thirty seconds she’s back, with a pile of paper plates.

“You have some now. Everyone needs these, deal with it,” she says as she lays them on the counter.

Grabbing a plate, she opens the boxes, making sexy as fuck noises just looking at the selection.

“Meat lovers, Veggie lovers, peperoni and pineapple, and Cheese lovers with alfredo sauce and hamburger.” I point to each of the boxes, listing them off to her.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Surprise.” I waggle my eyebrows at her and she laughs.

Taking a piece of each, I watch her start eating on her walk to the table. How can she be so small when she eats like a horse? Then I remember; she fights. I try not to think about it, because the more I think about it the more I worry. I’ve gotten past the phase of being angry about it, but I still don’t like it. I don’t like the thought of her getting hit. I don’t like the thought of her being injured, or knocked out. I don’t even really like the thought of her hurting someone else, but when put up against each other, I’d rather have my Red safe.

We spend dinner in easy conversation, mostly Red talking about her childhood. It’s weird hearing of the things they did. I remember being a kid, but it wasn’t anything like her childhood. For a moment I’m jealous, but I have to remind myself that the past is that past, and there’s no changing it. She and I wouldn’t be here tonight if we had any different of paths. It’s like the butterfly effect. One tiny thing can change everything.

“So, you ever gonna tell me what’s in the bag?”

“You have pizza sauce on our face.” I lie, but it’s so damn funny watching her silently freak out, at the same time trying to hide it from me. It’s also so damn hard not laughing at her.

“Fuck off, no I don’t.” She hasn’t moved her hands to her face yet, I know she’s trying to decide if I’m lying or not.

I shrug, “Ok fine, you don’t.”

We have a stare off for a minute, while she tries her hardest not to bring her hands to her face to wipe it away. Finally she breaks.

“Do I or don’t I!?” she screams, half laughing. Getting up from the table she runs to the bathroom. “Fucktard, I do NOT!”

Her yell from the bathroom sends me into a fit of laughter, so fucking hard my side starts to ache.

“Knock that shit off. Not funny, Eddie!” She slaps at me until I wrap my arms around her and pull her on top of me.

God, she’s so fucking perfect and she doesn’t see it. I see her insecurities, and I want to fuck them all out of her. She’s still laughing at me, lightly, and I’ve finally calmed down from my fit to talk.

“So, you really wanna know what’s in the bag?” I say into her neck as I start to kiss her under her ear, tracing down to her collarbone.

I hear her sigh and she relaxes into me, her arms moving up to my shoulders. She moans when I suck a little too hard, leaving a perfect spot just below her ear that her hair most definitely won’t cover. I smile to myself. It may be juvenile, but seeing that on her, knowing other’s will see it, really fucking turns me on.

“Chocolate chip cookies,” I say as I kiss down her shoulder, sliding the strap of the tank top down her arm.

“Mmmm...they will be delicious as a late night snack.” She moans and pushes herself against me.

“How open are you to new things, baby?” I hope this is the right fucking timing, because I can’t stop picturing the ropes across her alabaster skin.

She pulls back, looking at me for a moment. Smiling, she finally answers.

“In the bedroom?” She asks quizzically.

“Yea...something like that.” I know she’s confused, but if it’s going to freak her out I definitely don’t want to bring it up. It’s not something I need, just something I really fucking enjoy.

“Show me,” she whispers, eyes wide with slight trepidation and curiousness.

She wants me to show her. I can do that. I nod, contemplating how I want to go about this. Bondage, ropes, all of that can get such a bad name, and I don’t want her misreading any of it. I lift her and let her stand, before getting up and taking her hand. Heading into the guest bedroom, holding her hand the entire time, my heart won’t stop racing. There’s no turning back now, though.

“Sit.” It comes out more of an order than I wanted, but she walks to the bed and sits, tucking one leg under her.

I head to the closet and open it slightly, reaching for the black, quarter inch, Japanese silk rope that I have yet to use on anyone. It’s like I knew I was saving it for someone special.  Walking to the bed, she’s eyeing me and the rope curiously, but she hasn’t ran yet, so there’s a plus.

“What is that?” she asks as her eyes stay glued to the rope. I’m standing in front of her, rope in my hand, and I can feel my heart about to beat out of my chest.

“Japanese silk bondage rope,” I say. My voice is low, so full of emotions, love, need.

I look at her, and watch her eyes travel the length of the coiled rope. She reaches out to touch it, feeling its soft, smooth texture. Cocking her head, like it surprises her, she lifts it away from me and takes it in her lap.

 

Chapter 12

Gwynn

The rope is so much softer than I assumed it would be. I take it in my hands, laying the weight of it in my lap, and study it. It’s three or four smaller ropes twisted together creating a beautiful pattern. Just the thought of what he could do to me with this is turning me on. I’ve never done anything like this before, because the guys before Eddie were all so... vanilla. The times that Eddie has been in total control, I’ve loved it. I love the feeling that he wants me so bad he can’t control himself.

“What do you do with it?” I ask, still studying the braids.

“Nothing you don’t want to do.” His voice comes out rough, like he’s waiting for me to either freak out, unable to take his kink, or agree to this fantasy that he has obviously been thinking about.

“Have you done this with other girls?” I’m curious but I don’t know why. I guess I want to know how practiced he is, how skilled he is, how intense about this he is. This is all so new to me. I need the assurance that he knows I’m new to this.

“A few times, never with this rope though. We don’t do anything you are uncomfortable with, Red. I just... God, I can’t stop imagining how fucking hot you would look, bound all for me.” He’s kneeling in front of me now, sliding the rope off of my lap.

“Okay,” I whisper, looking into this beautiful hazel eyes.

His expression shifts from hesitation to pure joy. His hands take my face and he kisses me, soft but needy. Slowly, he pulls back and looks around the room, realizing where we are.

“Come on, we can’t do this in here.”  Standing, he takes my hand and walks me to his bedroom.

Laying me back on the bed, he immediately takes the rope and starts threading it around the bed post, leaving two long lengths on either side of me. He backs up to look at me, waiting for his instruction, and without a word starts undressing me. Slowly, so brutally slow, he takes off every piece of clothing I’m wearing. Leaving trails of kisses along my hip bone, up my stomach, he leaves no area of my skin untouched by his kisses.

Taking my left arm first, he pulls it up and over my head, and without warning me, he wraps the soft ropes around my wrist a few times, before tying it off and continuing with my right arm. There is still a lot of rope left, but before he does anything else, he backs off of the bed to look at me. I feel like a goddess, seeing the lust in his eyes after watching me lay here waiting for him. Just watching him look at me, appreciate me, has a fire starting to burn deep within me.

“Damnit that’s hot,” he growls at his work, at me, and slowly crawls back up the bed.

He’s not touching me in the least, but I feel like I could combust. He’s hovering over me, I can feel his body heat through his clothes. Too many clothes. Why is he still clothed? Before I can process any other thoughts, he brings my left knee up and wraps the silk rope around it, tying it off, then finishes with the right. Fuck, now I can’t move at all, and every part of me is on display for him. Everything. Shit, there’s that self-doubt creeping in. Before it gets too far, though, I look at him, breathing heavily, and see his reaction to seeing me like this. If I thought he looked pleased earlier, I don’t know how to explain what his looks tell me now. Like he’s never before seen anything so beautiful, and I have to keep reminding myself he’s staring at me.

“Comfortable?” The words come out a growl again, like he can’t work his vocal chords correctly right now.

“Not too bad.”

“Good... because Jesus Christ you look too goddamned sexy like that. I’d hate to have to correct it.”

“Why are you still dressed?” I ask, needing to see more of him.

He looks down at himself, cussing, then ripping everything off. Goddammit he’s so fucking hot. I am so on edge right now, so ready for him, I can feel every single wisp of air in the room as he moves towards me.

“What the fuck have you done to me, Red?” he asks as he starts kissing up and down my legs, all the while ignoring my core, exactly where I need him to be.

I’m useless like this, unable to grab him, unable to thrust up to him. I can’t do anything. I’m completely at his mercy, lying here waiting for him to touch me. Control has always been something I’ve wanted, but not with Eddie, I trust him enough to give up control to him. To give everything to him.

“I could ask you the same thing, Te—ooooh...” Unable to finish my thoughts, I close my eyes and lay my head back, letting him take complete control of my body.

He takes the last part of the rope and slowly caresses it over my clit, putting the slightest bit of pressure on it. It’s the perfect combination of rough and smooth as the smaller braids in the rope roll over me. Doing this until it has me on the brink of my first orgasm, but he stops before I am able to climax and chuckles to himself.

“Fuck, Red, that’s so fucking hot.” His fingers slide into me, reveling in the wetness, and gently start moving.

I instinctively move my arms to get to him when I realize I’m still tied to the bed. The thought of not being able to move turns me on even more, and I moan his name as his mouth encloses around me and starts licking.

It doesn’t take long for my first orgasm to rip through me, and Eddie is smiling brilliantly as I open my eyes after I come down from the high.

“Holy shit, Red. It’s never been that hot before... you are one fucking brilliant woman.” He smiles, then kisses me hard. I can taste myself on him, which fucking turns me on even more. Shit, at this rate I never want to leave his bed. He slides off of the bed to grab a condom and is back within fifteen seconds. Hovering over me, he slides into me, moaning my name. I can feel every inch of him. Every glorious inch. His forehead rests on my shoulder as he pushes all the way in, then all the way back out. I need more, though. I need fast. I need hard. Trying to initiate it and failing, he takes my wiggles as the invitation he was waiting for.

Sitting up, he starts moving faster, harder, and his fingers start playing with my clit. I’ve never known myself to have multiple orgasms so closely together, but with Eddie nothing is normal. Within minutes of his thrusts and fingers playing me, I’m screaming out in the most intense orgasm, made even stronger by the thought of not being able to move.

“Goddammit, Red,” he grits as he starts fucking me harder and harder as my own orgasm tightens around him.

“Fuuuuck!” he yells. He slams into me a few more times, then slows down, panting, and practically collapses on top of me. “Damnit, woman,” he gasps, then starts to laugh.

“What the hell are you laughing at!?” I wish, now, that I could cover myself, but my arms are still bound.

“Shit, Red. No. It’s just... FUCK. That was fucking AMAZING. You don’t know how much I have thought about these ropes, and how fucking hot they would look on you. Damnit. Everything I imagined was blown out the window when I looked at you tonight.”

I smile at him. “I love you, Eddie.”

“I fucking love you too, baby.”

Slowly, he starts untying me, kissing and massaging each leg as he undoes the ropes, then takes care of my arms in the same manner. Tossing the rope on the floor, he pulls me into him, holding me tightly.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers into my hair.

“For what?” I ask, unsure of what he needs to be thanking me for.

He pulls back, making me roll to my back to look at him. He’s propped up on his arm, muscles taut, so magnificent. And he’s all mine.

“For that. For not freaking out. For trusting me enough to try it. Thank you.” He leans in to kiss me softly, then curls me back into him.

“I’d do anything for you, Eddie.”

“Mmm… anything, really?” I love his growly voice.

“Anything. You ask, and it’s done,” I tell him honestly.

We lay there in silence, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in one another. It’s still hard to believe I just met this man a few weeks ago, when I feel as if I’ve known him my entire life. I would do anything for him, though. I want to be the first thing he thinks about in the morning, and the last thing he thinks of at night. I want to be the woman he dreams about. I want to be all of that for him, because he’s all of that for me.

“Up for those cookies now?” he asks, right as I’m about to fall asleep.

Widening my eyes, I look around for a clock. It’s only eleven, and I don’t need to be with Mac until tomorrow at noon.

“Sure, I think I have time for that.”

Helping me up and out of bed, he tosses one of his shirts at me and I throw it over my head as he puts his boxers back on. His hands don’t leave me the entire short walk to the kitchen. Without words, he grabs mugs while I go for the milk. Things are working out so comfortably with him, like I belong here with him.

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