Bound to Two Page 5

  Sarah did just that. She curled more comfortably on the seat, spreading herself out, and closed her eyes to the sound of the rain pelting the car and Jared and Damon’s soft voices.

  Chapter Five

  After killing the engine, Damon and Jared opened the back door. On a Friday night, the multi-story car park connected to their apartment building was still empty of cars. They had a couple of properties scattered throughout the city, but this one was the one they called home. They stared at the woman bundled in their back seat for a couple of minutes.

  Stuck inside the car after promising Jared he’d stay put and let him handle the situation, Damon had fumed. He’d had a hell of time keeping himself from simply tossing Sarah over his shoulder and dumping her in the car so the stubborn little sub wouldn’t catch a cold. Damon still couldn’t shake off how she looked—impossibly young and vulnerable, especially dressed down in casual clothes, holding onto her black case like her life depended on it.

  Damon wondered if she had any inkling how tough it was, wrangling her location from Bobby and James’s lips. It looked like Sarah temporarily lived with them, but the way they treated her reminded Damon of two uncles with their favorite niece. The two men were overprotective of her, but maybe they had a reason.

  Was Sarah in danger? Running away from the bastard who hurt her before? Hell, that poor fucker better not make the mistake of coming into their city because Damon and Jared would make sure to leave him in pieces.

  Damon didn’t understand why he and Jared were so possessive of a woman they barely knew, but Damon knew enough. Better yet, he understood her at her most vulnerable, when she splayed herself open and surrendered herself to their care. Trust didn’t come easily to a broken sub, yet she gave it to them all the same. It was a gift they didn’t intend to take advantage of or throw away.

  “Let’s get her inside,” Jared finally suggested.

  “Dibs on getting to carry her,” Damon interrupted when he began to move forward.

  Jared threw him an amused look, the smug bastard, but allowed him the courtesy. He took Sarah’s keyboard instead. Damon gently gathered Sarah in his arms, marveling at how light she was. With her past, Damon expected her to fight or claw at them when they picked her up.

  Instead, she nuzzled her head closer to his chest, like a kitten seeking warmth. Damon couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Jared brushed away the stray strands of slightly wet brown hair that had fallen across her face. Eyes still closed, her chest rising and falling unevenly, Sarah mumbled something under her breath.

  “Feels like we’ve picked up a stray,” Damon commented as they took the lift up to their floor.

  Damon hadn’t lied. Sarah’s absence at the club drove him to the edge of insanity, even shattering his attention during daylight hours, when he should be paying attention to reports and at important business meetings.

  Right now, Damon noticed every tiny reaction. Drank the motions down like a drug because she was exactly that. Potent. Dangerous. One scene, one evening, and she already had Damon and Jared hooked.

  “In a way, she is,” Jared said thoughtfully. His gaze landed on Sarah, who fisted her hand into Damon’s shirt.

  Damon wanted to peel away those small, slender, crooked fingers and put them to his mouth, sucking each one slowly just to see her blush. Remark on how her tits tightened to sharp points and find out if her pussy was getting wet.

  Jared clasped his shoulder. “Easy there, brother. I can easily read your mind. What you’re thinking isn’t what she needs at the moment.”

  Damon snorted. “I know, but I can’t help it. Maybe we can lay out some blankets for our pet, and then buy her a feeding bowl and shiny pink collar, too.”

  “I can hear you,” Sarah mumbled. She rubbed at her eyes and peered up at him.

  Damon had to laugh at the adorable way she glowered at him. Was he supposed to be intimidated?

  “Go on, sub. Continue glaring at me like that, and I will pull you over my lap. But before I spank you, I think a nice little furry tail might go well with a sparkly collar.”

  Sarah’s breathing hitched, and he wondered if he said something that triggered a bad memory. He knew her hard limits. They were on file, after all. Pet play wasn’t one of them, but then, sometimes subs didn’t know themselves.

  She shook her head, remembered fears disappearing. “You wouldn’t.”

  Damon growled. She flinched, and he didn’t like that one bit. “We’re not going to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You’re safe with us, Sarah.”

  “Okay. I mean. I know that from before. I’m just nervous. Thank you,” she whispered, lowering her gaze.

  Jared walked up to them and tipped her chin upwards. “No need to feel anxious with us, little one. We want to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Don’t be afraid to speak up either, all right?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Jared looked amused. “When we’re not doing a scene, you can call us by our names.”

  She looked surprised, then nodded. They stepped out of the lift. Jared opened the door to the apartment they shared. Sarah curiously looked around the space.

  “Can you put me down, please?”

  Damon kissed her forehead. “Sure, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely and all.”

  “I’m going to get you some warm clothes,” Jared told her. He placed the black case down before disappearing into Lisa’s old room.

  Damon didn’t say anything, although a phantom fist squeezed at his heart. Five years had passed since they lost Lisa to cancer. They took care of their needs back at the Lance, and there were always willing participants eager to play. They never brought any sub back here. Sure, they sometimes hosted private BDSM parties at one of their properties off-city, but not here. Not home.

  He set Sarah down. She stepped out of her sneakers and set them neatly beside the shoe rack by the front door. Barefoot, she padded into the living room, shedding tiny droplets of rain and leaving a trail on the carpet. With the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, she looked like a beautiful pale wraith, occasionally touching surfaces and furniture. When she spotted the scarred, but solid and functioning grand piano—the only heirloom their mother left behind—she looked like a child on Christmas Day. She ran her inked fingers lovingly over the wooden carvings, and then paused, not lifting the cover.

  “Sarah,” Damon began. She jumped at the sound of his voice. “How good are you with the piano?”

  “I’m okay, I guess,” she murmured, sounding distracted.

  The topic seemed to make her uncomfortable, but Damon wanted to know more. What made her tick. Her likes and dislikes. Her favorite color. Everything. If they planned to make her their sub and be part of her life, even beyond bedroom or club walls, then they might as well do it right.

  “James mentioned you get gigs like this all the time. So I presumed you’re more than good since it’s your main source of income.”

  Although he itched to get out of his drenched clothes, Damon took a seat on the couch and patted the space next to him. Warily, she sat. Sarah didn’t seem frightened of him, but Damon felt she saw him like some kind of predator she needed to respectfully keep a distance from. Well, he’d change that soon enough.

  “I wouldn’t call myself good, but music is my life.”

  A smile lit at the corners of her lips when Damon continued prodding about what kind of music she liked, her favorite musicians. She began to loosen up around him, and Damon finally glimpsed hints of the woman under the sub—incredibly passionate, intelligent, and a survivor, despite her scars and the shadows that hung over her. Although Jared had already returned, he stood to one side, not interrupting, but also listening intently.

  How could anyone want to hurt her? To pick up something beautiful, only to take sick pleasure in breaking it apart.

  “Would you play something for us sometime, little one?” Jared asked softly.

  She blinked, turning her head to find him standing by the s
ide of the couch. “Sure. I’d love to.”

  Jesus. The smile that lit up her face, shy and a little pleased, made Damon painfully aware of his cock straining against his trousers.

  “I hope you don’t mind this dress. It will be slightly big on you since your build is smaller,” Jared explained, holding out a familiar loose, sleeveless, light green dress.

  Damon pushed aside the memories of Lisa and the last time she wore that dress. His head had to be here, in the present, not meandering back into the past.

  “Damon, will you help her?”

  Sarah was about to protest, but Jared cut her off with a severe look. “Be a good girl and let my brother assist you, Sarah.”

  At that, she nodded. They both stood up.

  “Lift up your hands, little one,” Damon commanded.

  She obeyed, and Damon tried very hard to ignore how her nipples peaked against her black lacey bra that hid nothing from the imagination. Fuck, Damon had a weakness for nice lingerie. He could already imagine caressing her tits through the lace with the tips of his favorite flogger, hearing her groaning in compliance when he dragged it lower—

  “Damon?” Jared inquired, giving him a knowing look.

  Damon grunted and helped her out of her jeans. Grinning, he thumbed the lacey band of her panties. “I see we’re wearing undergarments today.”

  “No reason not to,” Sarah quipped.

  Damon couldn’t help himself. He caught her bottom lip with his teeth, liking how she moaned into his mouth. Damon sucked and nibbled, watching her expression grow relaxed. He slowly drew away when she pressed against him.

  A mere brush of her tits against his chest would severely weaken his resolve. Tear away the last layer of Damon’s self-control that kept him from bending her over the couch and sliding into her tight wet heat. Damon could almost hear the sounds filling the air. Her needy cries, his balls slapping against her ass, and his cock thickening as it hit the cold metal of her clit hood ring.

  “Sir?” The sound of her voice dragged Damon back to reality.

  She squirmed when Damon skimmed lower, tracing the shape of her swollen ring through the fabric. Sarah gasped when he teasingly tugged at the piercing. Damon closed his eyes. He could practically smell the flood of her arousal. Felt it as he abandoned his favorite accessory to finger her moist pussy, still teasing him from behind a thin layer of fabric. Damon couldn’t comprehend why every little detail, each action and reaction with Sarah, felt visceral and vivid.

  “I want to hear you call my name, Sarah,” Damon said firmly.

  “Damon,” she murmured. Sarah shaped the syllables slowly, as if she needed time to get used to them.

  Damon decided he liked his name on her lips, too. “Much better. What were you saying earlier?”

  Jared coughed politely. Deciding not to tempt fate, Damon tugged the dress over her head. On Lisa, it fell above her thigh, but on Sarah, it ended right below her knees. Damon didn’t realize his mind began to travel old roads until Sarah hesitantly touched his arm.

  “What is it, sweetheart?”

  “May I ask who this dress belonged to?”

  Damon blinked with obvious surprise.

  “Why would you ask that, little one?” Jared asked, looking in deep thought. Damon didn’t need to look at his brother to know Jared had, for a second, nearly taken a trip back to the past.

  “You both are thinking about her.” No malice or jealousy in Sarah’s voice, only curiosity.

  During the last five years, Damon and Jared came close to taking back a sub once or twice. In the end, those women refused to compete with Lisa, the memory of a ghost. Sarah deserved answers.

  Sighing, Damon collapsed against the couch. Jared joined him. Damon held out a hand to Sarah. Recognizing the gesture as an open invitation to talk, she clasped his fingers, and the strength there surprised him. Damon pulled her to his lap and positioned her between them so his brother had open access. Jared reached out, stroking her back. She sighed like a kitten, and Damon nearly dismissed the need to talk. They could head right to bed. Tuck her between them and chase away her nightmares when she slept.

  “Her name was Lisa. She was…a live-in sub and girlfriend Damon and I used to share and love,” Jared explained. “We met way back in college and explored the lifestyle together.

  “Was?” Sarah asked.

  Damon still couldn’t keep a straight face, and the buried sorrow crept into his voice. “Lisa died five years ago. Cancer.”

  “Oh, Damon, Jared. I’m so sorry to hear that.” She buried her silky head into Damon’s shoulder, took Jared’s fingers, and kissed each one.

  Jared closed his mouth. Damon’s brother had run out of words, and so had he. Until Sarah, Damon didn’t think he’d ever met a more unselfish human being who possessed such a tender heart.

  Thank God, Jared quickly picked up where he left off because Damon couldn’t bear to see that look on Sarah’s face. The assumption she had no place in their lives because of a ghost.

  “It’s all in the past, Sarah. After Lisa, we had trouble finding the right woman to balance us both. That is, until we met you.”

  Sarah’s breathing sped up again. “Maybe you’ve made a mistake.”

  “We don’t make mistakes, little one.” Damon cupped her chin and tightened his grip on her waist, pinning both her gaze and body.

  Uncertainty crossed her features. Fear. Excitement. Damon couldn’t blame her. The last time she surrendered herself to a man, he took advantage of her, made it practically impossible for her to trust again. Not impossible, Damon corrected, simply hard, but they planned to remedy that soon.

  “Tell us why you agreed to come home with us,” Damon demanded.

  “I—I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “But you do. No lies, remember?” Jared took her wrist and thumbed her pulse.

  She took a deep breath, about to look away.

  “Eyes on me. Always,” Damon commanded.

  Wary, she kept her attention on him. “Because you two feel safe,” she whispered. “And I didn’t want to sleep alone.”

  Sarah fidgeted, and Damon could feel her arousal through her moist underwear. Fuck. Her naked pussy lips would feel amazing kissing his bare thigh.

  “Very good, little one. I imagine it must be hard admitting the truth,” Jared ventured.

  “It works both ways for any relationship. It’s our turn to ask questions,” Damon said.

  She licked her lips. “A relationship?”

  “We want more than a couple of sessions with you at the club, Sarah. We want to see and know all of you, both the sub and individual underneath. Don’t you like that?” Jared gently asked.

  Her shoulders tensed. She was so still, with every muscle in her body frozen in place, Damon could mistake her for a delicate doll. Sarah wasn’t breakable or fragile, though. Damon and Jared had seen the steel underneath. Finally, tears gathered at the corner of her eyes.

  Damon leaned forward and licked them away. “It’s okay, baby. Let it all out.”

  She shook against him, sobbing quietly. It disturbed Damon slightly how she barely made a sound, Sarah bottling everything in. Damon wondered if her reaction was a by-product of the bastard who broke her. Jared tucked away the strands of hair that had fallen over her face. His brother managed to fish out a clean and old-fashioned handkerchief for Sarah to use. She rubbed at her eyes.

  “Sorry, it’s just … I’ve been fighting against this so hard, doing my best to avoid you both.”

  “Why are you so frightened at the prospect of starting a relationship with us?” Jared asked.

  “I don’t want to risk dragging anyone into my mess. If he finds me…”

  Damon’s nostrils flared. He tightened his hold on her. “He? The fucker who gave you those scars?”

  Sarah’s breath caught in her throat, but she nodded. “Michael.”

  Finally. A name.

  “Last name?” Damon demanded.

  She shook her head, loo
king panicked.

  “Hush, little one. It’s fine,” Jared coaxed.

  Damon supposed that might be too much to ask this soon. They waited for her to gather her nerves. Sarah gave them what Damon guessed to be a condensed version of her tale, purposely omitting any grisly or ugly details. She looked detached when she spoke, numbed and blank-eyed, transported to a time and place neither Damon nor Jared could reach.

  He hated it, the way this bastard held influence over Sarah even now. It prickled at him, knowing she was still married.

  “I wanted to file for divorce the moment I got away, but…” She hesitated.

  “You’re afraid he’ll find you,” Damon finished.

  She nodded. Sarah kept her gaze lowered, as if terrified they’d take back their words.

  “You made the right move, Sarah. From the way you’ve described him, this guy sounds like he has a lot of connections,” Jared mused.

  He stole a quick look at Damon, and silent understanding passed between them. After, when Sarah was rightfully nestled in their bed, they would talk about this fucker in detail. Scour through their old connections. Maybe get Bobby and James to talk and find a solution.

  “So.” Sarah cleared her throat. “I can understand, after all that, if you two no longer—”

  Damon took her lips before she could say another word. He kissed her hard, rough, and deep, hoping it was answer enough.

  “We’re grown men, Sarah. We know what we want, and we aren’t changing our minds,” Jared said.

  Damon released her. She curled closer to his chest, burying her face into his shoulder. Sarah’s scent flooded his senses. The smell of rain, some kind of jasmine soap, the faint fragrance of her perfume, and her distinctive smell teased his nostrils.

  “I suppose that’s enough for the evening,” Jared decided. “Time to pick kitty up, give her a bath, and put her in bed.”

  At that, Sarah peered at Jared and scrunched her nose. “A bath?”

  “That’s what you complain about?” Damon asked amused. “I’m transferring you over to Jared.”

  Sarah frowned. “I can perfectly walk on my own, thank—”