Bound to Her - Deborah Pin (books for 9th graders .TXT) 📗

back up to his

just to see him studying her intently.

“I want to talk about the other day.” She was obviously begging to sour the mood.

“What about it?”

“Why did you ignore me?”

He sighed. He looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

“You really didn’t answer the question.”

“There are so many things I wish I could say to you that I’m simply

not allowed to say.”

It was her turn to sigh but it was far more frustrated than his. “I like

you too.” He just stared at her. He didn’t say a word. She’d thrown it in

his face again.

“Kat, I want you to understand something. I want what’s best for you.

That’s the only thing you need to know about me.”

“Then don’t ignore me. It hurt my feelings. I thought at the very least

we were friends and I could wave to you. I felt like a complete idiot standing there.” Her hurt was seeping through her words.

“You really think we can be friends? You think that’s possible for us?”

His words were loaded. He wasn’t really asking.

“Why not?”

“You don’t need me to answer that question.”

“It’s not so complicated.” She was challenging him.

“Okay.” He ran his finger along the line of his chin as he approached

her. “Let me start by saying it’s really easy for you to say that. Your job

doesn’t depend on me keeping my dick out of you. Your safety doesn’t

depend on you being able to stay focused, rational, unemotional.” He obviously wasn’t going to be holding back on making his point.

“I said friends, not lovers.” She was actually serious when she said it,

though admittedly she sounded like a complete dumbass.

His smirk was subtle and it was completely devoid of humor—the

hand that reached out for her exposed knee was slow, deliberate. “You would stop me if I did this?” His fingers brushed the inside of her knee.

The skin was sensitive and she almost cried out at the warm tickle. His

eyes held hers with a raised brow.

When he pulled his hand back from her leg, it wasn’t to stop

tormenting her arousal. Instead he let his mouth taunt her. It was just a

soft gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth but it set her desire off like a firecracker in her womb. When he pulled back, he kept his face mere inches from hers. Far enough to hold her gaze but close enough she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

“And that? You’d stop me?” He watched her. He couldn’t possibly be

waiting for a reaction and she was far too dumbfounded to give him one.

“What if I pulled your nipple into my mouth with my lips?” She sucked

in a quick breath. “If I slipped my finger into your pussy? Hmm?”

She started slowly shaking her head. Hell no, she wouldn’t stop this

man from doing anything he wanted to her body.

“Well that’s too fucking bad, isn’t it? Because I’m not at all sure I could resist doing every last one of those things to you given the chance,

friends or not, and if you’re no more capable of putting a stop to it than I am, well where would we be then?”

His eyebrows shot up but the seduction was gone. His face was a bit

somber, defeated. “You know I want you. I want to do every last thing I

said to you and more. The fact of the matter is all of those things make

me less able to do my job. And I’d rather keep you alive than fuck you.”

His eyes were incredibly serious as he regarded her and she felt like a child being chastised for her poor behavior. “I won’t ignore you again. It

was rude and I’m sorry.”

She had no idea what to say. She was aroused, frustrated—she felt damn stupid and guilty for pushing the conversation down that path and

in her panic, she grasped at the first question that popped in her mind,

desperate to get back to some safe form of conversation that would hide

her intense need. “How’s Seth?” Maybe this was a safe topic.

“He’s doing well. He says you’re a cool teacher and he called you an

old person.” His smile was subtle. They weren’t friends after all.

“Well, I am a cool teacher and he’s obviously not met his dad. How

old are you by the way?”

“Thirty-five.” His face looked strained. It was as if she was pulling the

conversation out of him at this point. He’d made his point and now he was driving it home.

“See, now that’s old.” She tried for a laugh but it fell flat and he just watched her, forcing his lips to pull up slightly.

“I should go.”

They stood by the front door staring at each other for far too long and

as she started to reach for the door handle he did too. Their hands collided and he pulled back as though her skin was radioactive.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Kat.” His voice was quiet and she knew damn well he was overstepping a boundary right then, regardless of how hard he fought to put one up just minutes before

in the kitchen. She didn’t give a shit about his boundaries at the moment.

She wanted him to destroy each and every last one of them and give in to

it. But she wasn’t surprised in the least when he abruptly walked out the

door.

She watched him walk to his SUV and after he pulled from the

driveway and the gate was secure, she returned to the kitchen where the

kettle was only just starting to whistle. She made tea and paced. She paced and paced and paced until the door finally opened and Imogen came in.

“So?”

“Uh… Imagine gratuitous porn images—and I mean gratuitous—

with my head attached to the body. And oh yeah, Dillon’s too. You can

apparently do a lot with Photoshop to humiliate a person.” Katrina wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell Imogen about the rest of their

conversation. Perhaps she didn’t want to sound so pathetic or perhaps she just didn’t know how to explain it to her.

The porn images were enough though to hold Imogen’s attention and

she stared wide-eyed at her. She grabbed them each a beer from the fridge, took Katrina’s tea straight from her hand and tossed it in the sink.

“Why are you wasting your time with tea? Drink. And…uh…yeah, they

do it all the time in tabloids, doll. Next thing you’re going to tell me you’ve got paparazzi following you. Well can’t they just CSI that shit or

something?”

Katrina just stared at Imogen for a moment. “Um, I’ll make sure to ask him if they can just CSI the shit.”

“So did you keep your hands of his wanker?”

“I did. There will definitely be no more wanker touching.”

“That’s my good little temptress.”

She was pleasantly buzzed by the time they called it a night and she

crashed in the spare room. But it didn’t take long for her to realize it was going to be another long worrisome night of no sleep. The spare room was on the second floor and while not quite so grandiose as the master

on the first floor, it still had tall ceilings, a balcony overlooking the water and enough windows to bring the lake practically into the room. Katrina

ended up lying with her head at the foot of the bed, gazing out at the moon shimmering off the water.

* * * * *

When she showed up at the precinct the next day, she looked

nervous. She held another tape in her hand and he bristled with irritation

at the thought she’d gone home but after the strained, awkward, hot and

downright inappropriate conversation they’d had in her kitchen the day

before, he decided not to chastise too much.

“I just went home over lunch to check on Kitty. There was a message.

I thought I should just come straight here.” He led her away to a quiet room to listen to the tape. She looked like she felt as awkward as he did.

He’d basically told her he didn’t want to be her friend. Of course he’d also basically said it was because he wanted to fuck her too much.

He’d screwed up—there was no doubt about that. He might want to

be far more than her friend but he still needed to be her friend. He was going to have to find some way to fix that.

Stephens was out at the moment and Dillon couldn’t help but be glad

they’d be listening to this alone. Given the blush of her cheeks, there was

reason to assume this might be equally as humiliating as the

Photoshopped pictures.

“Did you like the artwork I left you? What can I say, I’m just calling it

like I see it. That man wants to fuck your brains out but then given the

look on your face when you’re with him, you want it just as much as he

does. You think he fucks good? I bet he’d like nothing more than to get

his cock inside your body. Whadya think? How do you think he

measures up to your dildo?”

Well, so far the man wasn’t saying anything they didn’t both already

know, but she was staring at his chest across the table from him. He was

watching her face intently, wondering all the while where he was getting

the nerve, considering the topic of conversation. The lunatic was

rambling on and on about Dillon’s penis and though he was certain he should be humiliated, he stifled it and watched her.

Her cheeks were pink and her hands were clasped tightly on the

tabletop. He wanted to reach out and reassure her. This tape was nothing

more than a humiliation for them both under the circumstances but he wasn’t allowed to act as though it had anything to do with them—

though it doubtless had everything to do with them.

“You think he eats pussy? I bet he’d eat yours and I bet you’d love it.

You would moan his name the way you used to moan Jason’s every time

that fucker licked your cunt. You used to love it. You’d pinch your own

nipples between your fingers, cry out as he sucked on your clit. Is he listening to this? I bet he is. He’s one of the detectives, isn’t he? I bet he would love to do all sorts of things to your body and you’d let him. You

think he thinks about you when he jacks off? I bet he does. I bet he thinks

about you and what you do to your own body with that dildo. You practically owe me your thanks. If it weren’t for me, he’d have no idea just what a fucking whore you are. What man doesn’t want to fuck a whore like you?

She stood, nearly knocking her chair over. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do

this.” And then she bolted from the room before he could stop her. He hit

the stop button and pocketed the small tape recorder before taking off after her. But then he ran right into Stephens and by the time he made it

down to the front lobby she was nowhere to be found. When he returned

upstairs, Stephens was waiting for him, scratching his chin.

“What the fuck was that all about?”

“Another message. Guess she didn’t want to hear the end of it.”

“Yeah? Well, I do. Let’s hear it.”

Stephens eyed him suspiciously as they listened to the tape in the same small little room and Dillon avoided his gaze. Odd he should be so

intent on watching Katrina’s face but he was so determined not to meet

Stephens’. He was afraid Stephens would see through him and he just wasn’t up for it. The end of the tape was more of the same vulgar drivel

as the first part with a few references to Katrina, Dillon and anal sex thrown in to make it interesting. No wonder she’d fled. He didn’t blame

her.

“So, you fuckin’ this girl?”

His glare flashed to Stephens, meeting his eyes easily for the first time

as the tape ended. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But you want to, don’t you?”

“I’m not answering that question.”

“You just did.” Stephens let out an angry humph. “You’ve never been

careless about your responsibilities—”

“And I’m not now! And how dare you insinuate I am? You believe

some psycho on a tape who’s obsessed with our victim over me? Is that

it? You think I’m sleeping