“It’s just me and Eric here. Don’t mind us. We’ve heard it all before.”
“Can I watch?” Eric asked eagerly.
“No, this is different. He won’t let me in if he thinks you guys can hear him.” She leaned close to the guys and whispered so Jace couldn’t overhear. “He always worries about what you guys think of him—that you won’t accept him for who he is. We’ll work on that eventually, but right now, I need to help him bury his mother.”
“His mother died?” Sed asked, looking stunned. “When?”
“Around fifteen years ago. You didn’t know?”
Sed shook his head. Both he and Eric glanced down the corridor at Jace, who was trying to play it cool by leaning against the door frame. He looked ready to leap out of his skin.
“He never talks about himself,” Sed said. “He has this wall thing he does.”
Aggie knew exactly what Sed meant. Jace’s wall. He hid behind it often, and once he put it up, it was nearly impossible to tear it down. “I’m working on that too,” Aggie said. “So, do you think you could get lost for an hour?”
Sed climbed to his feet. “Yep. I could use a workout anyway.”
“And keep everyone off the bus?” Aggie added.
Eric pulled a drumstick from the inner pocket of his leather vest and held it across his chest like a sword. “I shall guard this dwelling, m’lady, and vanquish all who dare attempt to trespass.” He took a stab at Sed with his improvised weapon. “Back, foul beast.”
“With this guy as your knight, you’d better be sure to lock the door.” Sed slipped into his jacket and headed down the bus steps.
Eric winked at her and loped after Sed. Aggie closed the bus door and secured it. She took a deep breath and let Mistress V come to the surface. As much as Aggie would have loved to help Jace by talking, listening, and showering him with love, she knew she wouldn’t get through to him that way. But Mistress V could. Mistress V could break him. Mistress V would break him.
She stalked down the hall. “Get in there,” she demanded, shoving him toward the bedroom. He stumbled sideways through the open doorway.
“Why did Sed and Eric leave?”
“Do you want them to hear you beg?”
“I won’t.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Wanna bet?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, actually—”
“Take off your clothes.” She went to the closet and lugged his big suitcase out. There had to be something in there she could use.
She found the chain and the cuffs on top of his tools of pleasure and climbed on the bed to suspend them from the ceiling.
“Aggie, what—”
She hopped off the bed and grabbed him by the ear. “Mistress V,” she corrected.
“Mistress V,” he said breathlessly.
“I told you to strip. Take off the sling too.” She released him and returned to the suitcase. She found a paddle, slapped it against her thigh, and set it aside.
Jace made short work of his clothes and moved to stand over her shoulder, peering into the suitcase. “I think there’s a riding crop in there somewhere.”
“Did I say you could speak? Go tip the mattress and box spring against the wall.”
“Why?”
“Don’t question me.”
He did as she asked and revealed a wooden platform under the mattresses. Perfect.
“Stand there,” she pointed to the center of the platform, right beneath the restraints.
“I don’t like to be restrained.”
“No one asked what you like.”
“But—”
“We do this my way or not at all.”
He glanced at the restraints and then down at her. He nodded. Gave up his power, except his willpower. But she planned to take that too and give him more in return.
She climbed onto the platform and took his left hand. She lifted his arm above his head, and he held still while she fastened the cuff around his wrist. Before she could secure his other hand, he sank his fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth to his, stealing her thoughts with a deep kiss. She might have him chained to the ceiling, but she was the one ensnared, and she knew it.
When he pulled away, she stared into his eyes. “Don’t hate me for this, okay?”
“I don’t think it’s possible to hate you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She carefully lifted his injured right arm, watching for signs of distress. The only distress he showed was when she tried to remove the leather cuff on that wrist. “No, don’t take that off.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want you to.”
She shrugged and secured his other wrist over his head by fastening the restraint over his studded bracelet. “Is your shoulder okay in that position?”
He nodded. She got to work.
She paddled him until he trembled with excitement and then set the implement aside. She moved to stand behind him and gently ran her hands over his chest and belly while she trailed gentle kisses along his shoulders and back. As she figured he would, he fought his restraints. She continued her tender caresses until he twisted out of her grasp.
“Not gentle, Aggie. Please, I can’t stand it.”
“Mistress V,” she reminded him.
“Hit me, Mistress V. Now.”
“I don’t think I will,” she whispered, spooning against him and running her hands over his belly and his most sensitive places inside the ridges of his hip bones.
He chuckled. “Ah, tickles.”
That laugh. It made her heart ache with longing. She almost didn’t have the stomach to continue.
“Your mother’s failure wasn’t your fault, Jace,” she said.
He went still.
“She still could have been a concert pianist. You weren’t standing in her way. She was standing in her own way. She did it to herself and used you as her excuse.”
“Don’t tell me about my mother. You don’t know anything about her.”
She should have expected his anger to surface first, but it wasn’t the reaction she was looking for. She had to push harder—dig deeper. God, she hoped he didn’t hate her after this. She didn’t know if she’d be able to handle his hatred, even if she did this for his own good. “She was a selfish bitch, Jace. Why are you defending her? What kind of mother blames an innocent child for her own failure?”
“Don’t say bad things about my mother, Aggie.”