Surrender: Not Until You, Part 6. Roni Loren

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СКАЧАТЬ understand,” Kade said.

      “But I was hoping,” Foster continued, “you might be able to help us out in another way.”

      “What’d you have in mind?” Kade asked, his curiosity and interest evident in his voice. I could almost picture him there, blond head tilted, mischief sparking in those blue eyes.

      Foster left my side for a moment as he spoke in low tones with Kade. I inclined my head toward the sound but couldn’t make out most of the damn words. But the few I did hear made my spine go stiff. Was he inviting Kade to be part of my punishment? Oh, hells no.

      “Foster,” I said in a harsh whisper as my body started to quake with nerves again. He didn’t answer. I felt like a child urgently trying to get her parent’s attention, looking for a pant leg to tug on. “Sir.”

      “Hush,” he said, a bite to the simple word.

      “I can definitely help you out with that,” Kade said, a smile in his tone.

      Oh, screw this. I stepped back, bumping into a wall, and yanked the tie off my eyes, frustration and fear surging in me like a battle cry.

      Foster’s frown was unmistakable in the soft light of the hallway. “Cela.”

      “No,” I said, words spilling out of me without going through any kind of filter. I threw the tie onto the ground. “I lied, okay? So I didn’t tell my family yet. Big deal. It wasn’t a freaking capital crime. That doesn’t mean you should get to punish me and invite your friends along for the ride.”

      “Invite my—” Thunderclouds crossed Foster’s expression, an ominous spring storm blotting out the sunshine, and he stepped forward. Automatically, I pressed my back fully against the wall, half hoping it would just absorb me into it. To my dismay, the drywall didn’t cooperate. Foster moved into my space—not touching me, not trapping me, but freezing me in place nonetheless with the hard look in his eyes. His voice was like a winter-chilled gust when he spoke again. “Not a big deal? Were you or were you not the one who wanted to stay so this could become a relationship—not just kinky fun?”

      “What does that have to do with anything?” I said, my words sharp but my voice quavering and my fingers pressing into the wall for support.

      “You lied to me. People in relationships are supposed to be honest, to talk about what they’re going through.”

      “And it pissed you off,” I said in a huff. “I get it. I’m sorry. I said I was sorry.”

      He scoffed. “Pissed? You think this is about me being pissed?” He bent his head toward me, his gaze boring into mine. “I’m hurt, Cela. If you’re just using me to get some wild oats out your system, then fucking tell me that. At least I know where I stand. But don’t make me care about you, and then not even trust me enough to talk to me. How would you feel if I said your punishment was that I get to tell one free lie to you when the time suits me? Would that seem like a big deal?”

      I glanced away. That would, of course, be awful—wondering anytime he said something if this was the time he was going to choose to lie. Gah. I didn’t want him to make sense. My righteous indignation felt so much better than thinking I’d actually hurt him.

      “You know what it makes me feel like when you lie to me?” he asked, his voice soft now.

      I pressed my lips together and shook my head, feeling a little more miserable with each passing second.

      “Like your fuck buddy, Cela. Like some guy.”

      I winced at his pained tone.

      So it was true. I’d hurt him.

      The thought ran through my head like a storm warning on repeat. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Foster wasn’t just angry that I’d lied to him; the lie and my lack of trust had honestly affected him. And that did something to me I couldn’t even explain. Hurt meant that this was important to him. Hurt meant that his feelings were involved. Hurt meant that earlier tonight he hadn’t jumped my case about the peephole because he was some overbearing asshole—he did it because he was genuinely concerned about me.

      Hurt meant everything.

      And even though I hadn’t realized I’d needed confirmation of that, something ragged inside me smoothed. My heart wasn’t the only one on the line here. We were both stripped-down and vulnerable.

      And he was right. How could I demand all those answers from him over dinner only to lie to him when he’d asked about my family? I hadn’t wanted to look like a coward or explain why it was so hard. But he was right. If we were going to be together, I needed to stop only showing him the parts of me I wanted him to see.

      “I’m sorry,” I said again, and in that moment, I realized how damn pathetic those words sounded. What did they mean anyway? Those words were supposed to make everything better? Show true remorse?

      Now I understood.

      Without saying another thing, I took a deep breath and slowly lowered myself to my knees. Once there, I picked up Foster’s tie, and lifted it to him, staying on the floor at his feet. He stared down at me, blue eyes going tender, and took the strip of silk from my hands. “Thank you. Stand up, angel.”

      He took my hand in his, helping me to my feet, then lifted my hand to his mouth to brush a kiss over my knuckles. His gaze stayed on mine, conveying so much through just one look. Appreciation. Heat. And relief. He’d been afraid I was going to walk out. Finally, he turned his head and sent a curt nod toward Kade, who’d stayed in the shadows while we’d been arguing. Foster tied the blindfold over my eyes again and then placed my hand in the crook of his elbow to guide us further down the hall.

      I had no idea where we were going or what awaited. But though nerves still bubbled in my belly, the rest of me had morphed into resolve. Foster cared about me. And I trusted him. If he was going to have Kade be a part of things, then I needed to have faith that he would only take it as far as he thought I could handle. And if either of them tried something I didn’t like, I had my safe word. I knew down in my gut that Foster would honor that no matter what, so that gave me the courage to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Even when I felt damp night air hit my face.

      “Take off your shoes, angel,” Foster said, his breath gusting over my neck. “I don’t want you to stumble.”

      “Okay.” Keeping my hand on him to steady myself, I slipped out of my heels. My bare feet hit a smooth, uneven surface—like the cobblestone that paved the sidewalk into the restaurant. Surely he couldn’t have me standing barefoot and blindfolded in front of the building, right? There was a parking lot out there and windows along the front of the restaurant where anyone would be able to see me. I wet my lips, worry like a heavy coat I couldn’t shrug off.

      “Easy,” he said, lifting my hair off my shoulder and pressing a kiss to the column of my neck, sending shivers down to my painted toenails. “Just try to breathe and focus on my voice and touch. That’s all you need to worry about. Not Kade or what’s around you. Just me and what you’re feeling.”

      “Yes, sir.” I nodded, warmth from the simple feel of his lips again my skin gathering low. “Is Kade still here?”

      “No, he’s getting a few things for me. But see, you’re still worrying. Focus, angel.”

      I СКАЧАТЬ