“I’ll tell you why. Did I ever mention that my mother isn’t allowed to choose her own clothing every day? Gordon insists on doing it for her.”
Hunter’s brows shot up, and he shrugged. “If they’re a Dominant/ submissive couple, that’s not uncommon. I don’t want a twenty-four/ seven slave like that, but some Doms—”
“I don’t know if he’s a Dom. Even if he is, the real problem is that he’s an ass**le. Every day for the past dozen years he’s been telling my mother that she could look better. He started by picking her jewelry, because, according to him, he has an innate talent for such things, which she lacked. Then he started choosing her shoes, then shirts, skirts, pants. Now she doesn’t wear a stitch without consulting him because he’s convinced her that she’s a train wreck without him.”
Even in shadow, she saw the concern deepen on Hunter’s face. “Kata, I—”
“No!” How dare he suffer remorse now for pushing her to talk. He wanted this Pandora’s box opened, so he’d better deal. “That was just the beginning. He cut her off from all her friends, scheduling conflicting events, inventing ‘crises’ whenever she had plans to go out. Soon, even the friends who’d stood by her after my dad died, fell by the wayside. So Gordon convinced her that he was a better friend than all of them put together. She’d had a great career as an OR nurse, but five years ago, she and the surgeon lost a little boy on the operating table. My mom was crushed. You know what Gordon said? Maybe she wasn’t as talented as she’d thought, and that everyone would be better served if she stayed home. She f**king loved that job. Poof, it was gone. He’s made her too afraid to pursue getting another. Her driver’s license expired, and he’s been dragging his feet for two years to take her to have it renewed.”
“You’re right; he is an ass**le,” he said softly.
Kata paused, stared at him in the dark. It wasn’t a line. He sincerely meant that. Somehow, all the jumble of anger, panic, and desire that had been biting her morphed into grief. Tears stung her eyes.
“Gordon calls all the shots. Since about the time I began driving, Mom hasn’t been the same woman I grew up with. She’s afraid to breathe without precious Gordon’s permission. She’s a . . . shell. Then three years a-ago . . .”
Hot tears rolled down Kata’s face. She tried to wipe them away, then realized the manacles made that impossible. Helplessness and impotent anger infuriated her all over again. God, what her mother must go through . . .
Kata paused, unable to relive the horror of the night everything had spiraled down the proverbial toilet of life. Hunter had only wanted her to vomit up the painful past so that he could unravel her. But she was already there, feeling a hairsbreadth away from giving in to something that could destroy her.
Granted, Hunter hadn’t belittled her. She prayed he would see why the amount of control he wanted to exert over her life scared the hell out of her and stop trying to make her surrender her soul.
“Three years ago . . .?” he prompted, wiping her tears away.
Kata slammed her eyes shut. As she pictured how that sentence ended, a sob buckled her chest with the horror her family lived with each and every day. The pity, the pain. No way she was sharing that so Hunter could rip her wide-open and make her even more vulnerable to him.
“Stop! God knows that, all trussed up like this, you can do whatever the hell you want with me, and I can’t stop you. You’ll probably even make me like it, but I—I’m done talking.”
“Okay. Shh.” Hunter kissed her forehead, caressed her cheek. “Thank you for sharing your mother’s situation with me. I appreciate the courage and trust that required.” His voice, surprisingly tender, soothed her. “I understand better, I think. You’re afraid that my wanting to control you in bed will spill to the rest of your life. Before me, you’d never spent ten minutes with a Dom. Clearly, you’ve been through a lot with Gordon. Your fear is fair.”
Of all the things he might have said, that surprised her most. And incited more tears. “You’re not bullshitting me?”
“No. We married quickly, and you don’t know me well yet. From your perspective, I took advantage of a drunk woman by hustling you to the altar, spent the night with you, and chased you to your hometown when you wanted space. When danger came your way, I ordered you not to return to work, which I’m guessing felt a lot like something Gordon would demand.” He cocked his head in thought. “Then I suppose you think I dragged you to Dallas, away from your family and friends, so I could isolate you. I got in your panties and your head until you gave me the information I needed so I could somehow use it against you. Do I have it right?”
Her eyes watered over again. She wanted to believe it was nothing more than exhaustion and a decided lack of the orgasm she’d so desperately craved. Or that her damn eyes leaked because she’d dredged up so much stuff about her mom that she usually shoved way down. But mostly, it was Hunter. He was so insightful, actually able to see the situation from a point of view other than his own.
Wow. She wasn’t used to that.
“Right now, you don’t seem like the kind of dickhead who makes himself feel better by making others feel worse.” She sniffed, paused, still thinking through her reply. He was trying hard to be fair; she needed to do the same. “I know that, though stupid and drunken, getting married was my idea. I have no doubt after having a bullet whiz a quarter inch from my face that the danger I’m in is real. I’d escaped him, yeah.” It pained her to admit this. “He would probably have found me again pretty quickly. I know you alpha males can’t fathom not protecting your woman or whatever. I admit that I don’t know the first thing about hiding from an assassin.”
“But?”
Damn if the concern in his prompt didn’t start the tears again. “I don’t think I can deal with you always trying to get in my head. Fun, casual, normal sex—yes. But what you want . . .”
“The intense bond of people who f**k not just with their bodies for the sake of orgasm, but with their minds and hearts to share the ultimate pleasure? Who give themselves to each other so completely that you and I become an us that’s so solid, nothing can ever shake it? You don’t want that?”
Kata couldn’t look away from his solemn, unwavering stare, half-hidden in the gray shadows. She trembled from head to toe. When he described the relationship he saw, it sounded so beautiful. But so not real. Wasn’t that, like, a Hallmark card or a Lifetime movie? “Not when it starts with you ordering me around. I—I can’t . . .”
“You’re not the kind of woman who runs from herself. I refuse to believe that, rather than face me and your fears, you’d prefer tepid orgasms with someone like Ben, who will never fulfill you or truly earn your love.”
She wasn’t a coward. She already knew she couldn’t go back to Ben. He’d propositioned her three times since she’d breezed into his hotel room—had that been just this morning?—and she hadn’t hesitated to turn him down.
“You can’t tell me you’ve had that sort of relationship with every woman who’s ever submitted to you.”
“You’re right.” He sighed. “You are the first one. The only one.”
Those words touched her, despite the danger they represented. And the goddamn tears just wouldn’t stop. Hunter had broken something open inside her. Even last night she’d wanted what he seemed to be offering, but now that he’d laid it out on the table so totally? She wanted it more. Desperately. Even though it terrified her.
And cue more tears. Damn it.