Hottest Mess (SIN 2)

Terrified that I will never get out of this place. That she will leave me here to starve. That she will never take me back to Dallas.

That Dallas will never find me here in the dark. That he is gone from me for good.

That he won't come for me.

That he won't forgive me for pushing him.

That I'll be bound here forever. Trapped here forever. Lost in this place between then and now.

This was a mistake, I think, as the tempo of my heart increases. I should never have let Brody tie me up. I should never have surrendered control. This was supposed to be about Dallas, but right now--like this--I don't know if I can take it anymore. The fears. The memories.

I feel like ants are crawling on me. Like the dark is turning red. And though I struggle against the bonds, I can't loosen them. On the contrary, everything is tightening. My wrists, my ankles. And I finally can't take any more of it and I open my mouth to shout for Brody--only it's Dallas's name that comes off my lips when I hear the door crash open. And it's Dallas's face that I see when the blindfold is ripped off my face.

Dallas, looking scared to death and pissed as hell.

Dallas froze in the doorway, tossed back seventeen years as he saw the terror reflected on her beautiful face. Then he rushed to her and ripped off that damn blindfold.

"Jane," he cried. "Jesus, Jane, who did this to you?"

"Dallas." Tears streamed down her face. "I--I got mixed up. It felt like I was back then, and I was afraid you wouldn't come to me. That they wouldn't let you come to me."

"I will always come for you, baby." He pulled off his T-shirt and covered her with it, certain she must be cold. "But you have to tell me what happened. Who did this to you?"

She was breathing better now. The wildness in her eyes fading. She turned her head to meet his eyes. "You did."

The words hit him like a slap. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You pushed away from me, Dallas. I had to get you back."

He shoved back off the bed, her words like a blow

. "Oh, Jesus, Jane. Christ. You were terrified when I came through that door. And now you're telling me there's no one else. This is all on you?"

She didn't say anything, but he saw the truth in her eyes. And damned if he wasn't sure if he was incredibly relieved or entirely pissed off.

Either way, he pulled out his phone, then dialed Liam. "You can stand down. We were right. There's no perp."

"Glad to hear it. Give her a hug for me."

"After I spank the shit out of her, I just might do that."

He heard Liam's chuckle before the line went dead, then he pocketed his phone and strode to the head of the bed and unfastened the ropes that held her wrists before repeating the process with her ankles.

She sat up, the cuffs still around her wrists, the ropes still dangling from them. The T-shirt was pooled in her lap, and her bare breasts combined with the restraints spread around her on the bed made a damned enticing picture. And despite the fact that he was pissed as hell, he felt his body tighten with desire. For Jane--always for Jane--but also for the idea of Jane here. In this room. This sensual playroom that she'd put together for him, but that they'd never once used.

He pushed it aside.

Enticing or not, he was too damn angry. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asked, pacing beside the bed.

She watched him, her head moving as she followed him. "What was I thinking? Maybe that I didn't know how to get through to you? That the only way to get you to actually listen and to hear me and not just run away because you think you've freaked me out, is to prove to you that it's okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, glancing around the room as he remembered the way he'd hurt her after he'd awakened inside her. "This is okay? You tied up? Me using you? Me taking you however the fuck I want? Me losing control because I'm too fucked up to hold back? Possibly hurting you? Probably scaring you? Is that what you're saying is okay?"

"Yes," she whispered, rising up on her knees and holding out her hands for him. "But say the rest of it. Say what it is you're afraid of."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm not having you play shrink, Jane. Not happening."

"Fine. Then I'll say it. It's more than just possibly hurting me--and guess what, I don't care. And it's more than just possibly scaring me, because you won't. But none of that really matters, because that's not what's really scaring you."