Tied With Me Read online

“He seems nice.”

  “He’s kinky,” I respond without thinking, then bite my lip and shake my head.

  “He’s into bondage, so what?”

  “Do you know him?” I ask, hoping she says yes so I can drill her for information.

  “Not really. I’ve seen him around before, but I’ve never spoken to him.” Bailey cocks her head, takes a sip of her wine and watches me closely. “What’s your hang-up?”

  “I’m not submissive, Bailey.”

  “Okay.”

  “Trust me when I say, he’s pretty dominant in the bedroom.”

  “Okay.”

  I growl and glare at my best friend. “Stop saying okay.”

  “Look, you’re overthinking this, Nic.” She squirms a bit across from me, getting comfortable. “You two had a good time together. Did he scare you?”

  “No.”

  “Did he hurt you?” She’s watching me very carefully, reading my body as well as my words.

  “No,” I reply immediately.

  “Then what makes you hesitate to see him again?” she asks, confused.

  “Well, at first I thought he was married with kids,” I remind her and glare when she bursts out laughing. “But I found out yesterday that it was a family emergency, and he’s single.”

  “Dramatic much?” she asks, still laughing. “I told you it probably wasn’t that.”

  “Look, he lives a lifestyle that I know nothing about, and I can’t lose control of my life, Bailey. You know that better than anyone.”

  “Who says he wants to control your life?” Bailey asks, her expression clearly confused.

  “Please, he’s a Dominant, right?”

  She grows quiet, frowns and fidgets with her glass for a moment before pinning me in her gaze. She looks…hurt.

  “I never figured you as a snob, Nic.”

  “What?!”

  “Every person is different, no matter their circumstances. You’re a baker, but I bet another baker doesn’t make cupcakes the exact same way you do. Matt likes bondage and, yes, he’s dominant in the bedroom, but you haven’t even given him a chance to talk to you. He may not be looking for a full-time sub. Maybe he just wants to tie you up and boss you around in the bedroom. He’s obviously into you.”

  I don’t know what to say. I’m still stuck on “snob.”

  “He didn’t hurt you, and he had a valid reason for leaving that night. Give him a chance. See where it leads. Maybe it won’t be for you, but you won’t know until you try.”

  “How can you be a part of this community and not be a little afraid of it?” I ask honestly. “I know you. You’re not weird or some kind of whack job.”

  “Um, thanks. I think.” She wrinkles her nose and then giggles. “Most people who enjoy sex on the kinky side aren’t whack jobs. We’re just a little different. I’m not sure where I fit in yet. I’m not submissive. There isn’t one particular fetish that I enjoy more than others. I guess I’m still figuring it out.”

  “Since when are you so smart?” I ask.

  “I just don’t want you to throw away something that could be good just because you have preconceived notions about a lifestyle you know nothing about. This isn’t fiction, Nic. He’s just a guy. If it turns out that you don’t like it, you can end it and move on.”

  “I did like it,” I admit softly. “And maybe that scared me.”

  “Did he check in with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When he was with you, while you were tied and whatever else he had you doing. Did he check to make sure you were okay?”

  I think back to that night in my apartment, to the way he asked me if he was hurting me.

  “Yes.”

  She nods and smiles at me. “I’m excited for you.”

  “It’s just dinner tomorrow night,” I remind her.

  “But you’re gonna give it a chance, right?”

  I drain my wine glass and watch my best friend for a moment and feel the excitement spread from my belly, out my arms and into my throat.

  And it has nothing to do with the wine.

  “Yeah, I definitely am.”

  “Attagirl!”

  ***

  Why did I agree to go out to dinner with him?

  Do friends go out to dinner? Well, girlfriends do, and I guess I’ve been out to dinner with Ben once or twice when I was back home visiting.

  Even though he’s my ex-boyfriend, he’s just a friend now.

  And I’m overthinking this.

  I’m in black capris and a white top with the shoulders cut out, showing off the ink on my right shoulder.

  The doorbell rings just as I finish primping my short dark hair. I slide my feet into black sandals, grab my handbag and open the door to the finest specimen of man I’ve ever seen. He’s in faded denim and a blue T-shirt that molds to his torso, defining every ab, making me want to pull him inside this apartment and say screw it to dinner.

  “Hey.” He grins.

  “Hi yourself.” He steps back, allowing me to pull the door closed and lock the deadbolt.

  “You look great.” He motions for me to lead him down the stairs to the sidewalk below.

  “Likewise,” I reply and then giggle. “Seriously, it should be illegal to look like that in a T-shirt.”

  He cringes and then laughs. “I’ll have to look that law up.”

  “Do that,” I reply. “So, where are we going?”

  “There’s a great place over by the Seattle Center. It’s not far, and it’s gorgeous tonight. Let’s walk.”

  “Sounds good.” I fall into step beside him as we head down the dozen or so city blocks to the Seattle Center, where the Experience Music Project, Space Needle and KeyArena all are. It’s always a bustling place, lots to see.

  “How did you find your building?” he asks as we wait for a stoplight to change.

  “It took months,” I inform him. “I think my Realtor was ready to throw me into the sound by the time we found it. But I was picky.” I shrug and then shiver when he rests his hand on the small of my back, leading me across the busy intersection. “I knew when I saw it that I wanted it.”

  “It’s an awesome location.”

  “It really is. Plus, Leo Nash comes in on a regular basis. That’s one piece of eye candy that never gets old.”

  Matt laughs next to me and steps around the opposite side of a tree, dividing us.

  “Bread and butter,” I mumble.

  “What?” he asks with a smile.

  “When you’re with someone, and you both walk around the opposite side of something, you’re supposed to say ‘bread and butter’ so you don’t have bad luck.” I giggle and glance up at him. “At least, that’s what my great-grandmother used to tell me. But she was very superstitious.”

  “I’ll have to remember that,” he replies with a grin. “So, back to Leo, did you meet him at the wedding?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I saw him there. I don’t usually talk to the guests. Actually, I don’t do many weddings.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re stressful and most brides are certifiable.”

  Matt leads me past the EMP, and we stop to watch a juggler for a few moments.

  “I prefer to be in my shop.”

  “Do other musicians come in?”

  “Sure. I’ve had Adam Levine in. I thought Tess was going to pee herself.” I laugh at the memory. “Bruno Mars, Eddie Vedder, Blake Shelton…they’ve all been in.”

  “That’s cool. But Leo’s your favorite?”

  “He’s nice. His girlfriend is always really nice, too. Sam, right?”

  He nods, watching me, and I’m suddenly mortified.

  “I’m sorry. They’re your family and I’m chattering on about them like a fan-girl.”

  “It’s fine. They’re just normal people. You’d like them.”

  “Are you taking me to the Greek place?” I ask with enthusiasm.

  “Is that okay with you? They have great
food.”

  “I know! It’s my favorite.” I grin at him as he holds the door open for me. We’re seated quickly by the windows with a great view of the Space Needle.

  “Tell me about your tattoo.” He’s watching me over his menu, his eyes calm and ice blue.

  “Rebellious stage.”

  “Can I get you both something to drink?” the waitress asks as she approaches the table.

  “I’ll take a Diet Coke, please.”

  “Water for me,” he replies. “Tell me more.”

  “I had a few years where I gave my parents a run for their money. I got this”—I point to the bright flowers on my right shoulder—“on my twentieth birthday.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad I wasn’t stupid enough to get something like Tweety Bird or something.”

  “Do the cherry blossoms mean something to you?”

  “I thought they were pretty. And, trust me, that was a time in my life when I didn’t think much about me was pretty.”

  He tilts his head to the side and narrows those blue eyes on me, but I look down at my menu, avoiding his gaze.

  Why did I say that?

  Rather than push for more, he turns his attention to his menu, and the waitress returns with drinks and to take our order.

  Twilight is just beginning to set in, and the lights on the Space Needle begin to glow.

  “I love the Space Needle at night,” I murmur.

  “The view from the top is amazing,” he agrees.

  “I’ve never been to the top.”

  His gaze whips to mine. “Never?”

  “Nope.” I shake my head and take a sip of my drink. “I’ve only lived here for about five years.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “A small town in Wyoming.”

  “Is your family there?”

  “Yeah.” I nod slowly and drag my fingers down the beading condensation on my glass. “My parents and sister are all there. I have lots of extended family, too.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “Because I like the city. I came here for culinary school and never went back.”

  “Do you visit?”

  “Sure, about once a year. My mom spends the whole week I’m there begging me to move back, giving me the guilt trip for being so far away.”

  “So she does the mom thing,” he replies with a wink.

  “Big-time.” I nod. “I love them, but there are only about twelve hundred people in that town. What would I do there forever? I like it here. This is my home. I can visit them.”

  His eyes are warm as he watches me. “I’m glad you came here.”

  His voice is soft and low and like warm honey. He’s such a nice guy. He hasn’t been pushy or demanding at all.

  Is this really the dominant man I knew a few weeks ago?

  Our food is delivered, and we continue with small talk throughout the meal, and when we’re finished and we step out in the warm Seattle evening, I take a deep breath and rub my belly.

  “God, I’m full.”

  “You eat like a champ,” he replies with a wide grin.

  “I know.” I scrunch my nose. “I’m gonna need an extra mile on the treadmill tomorrow.”

  “Let’s work some of it off now.” He leads me toward the heart of the center. The whole space is lit up, and people are milling about. Kids are skipping, yelling, crying. Cotton candy stands, ice cream stands and candied nut stands are positioned about.

  “How about an ice cream?” he asks.

  “We’re supposed to be working calories off, not adding to them,” I remind him with a laugh. “How about an iced tea?” I suggest, pointing to a nearby barista.

  “Good idea.”

  “Officer Montgomery!” a little middle-aged woman exclaims from behind her espresso machine. “I haven’t seen you in a long time. You never visit me anymore.”

  “It’s detective now, Mrs. Rhodes.” He grins and winks at the older woman. She’s old enough to be his mother.

  And she looks completely smitten with him.

  “Who is your lady friend?” she asks with a soft smile.

  “This is Nic.” Matt settles his hand on my back, introducing me to the kind woman. “Nic, this is Mrs. Rhodes. She makes the best coffee around.”

  “Of course I do,” she replies. “But you don’t ever come to get any.”

  “Well, you said you were going to leave Mr. Rhodes and run away with me, but you never did that either. You broke my heart.”

  “Oh, now you stop that, young man!” She shakes her finger at him, but her eyes are shining with humor. “You’re going to make people talk.”

  I can’t help but giggle at their banter. Matt is charming and most likely making Mrs. Rhodes’ year.

  “What can I get for you, darling?” she asks me kindly.

  “Just an iced tea, please.”

  “Do you want me to sweeten it?”

  “No, thank you,” I reply.

  “And for you, troublemaker?” she asks Matt, who laughs delightedly.

  “I’ll have the same.”

  She fills our drinks, and when she tries to pass them over the counter, Matt steps behind and takes them from her, then leans in and kisses her cheek.

  “If you ever need anything, you have my number.”

  “You’re a good boy, detective.”

  He smiles softly and hands me my drink, waves at Mrs. Rhodes, and we are off again, wandering around the Seattle Center.

  “She is smitten with you,” I inform him.

  “Jealous?” he asks me with a wolfish smile.

  “No.” I giggle. “I liked her.”

  “She’s been serving coffee in that same spot for years. This used to be my beat when I was a beat cop.”

  “Oh, cool. Do you miss it?”

  “Just Mrs. Rhodes.” He laughs. “She and her husband are good people.”

  I nod, not knowing what to say. I’m learning that not only is Matt Montgomery sex on a stick, but he’s just plain…kind.

  I’m in trouble.

  “Where are we going?”

  We’ve stopped by the base of the Space Needle and thrown our empty cups into the trash.

  “Up the Needle,” he replies with a raised brow. “You’ve never seen it.”

  My mouth drops for a moment, and then I clap my hands and bounce on the balls of my feet. “Awesome!”

  “Come on.”

  He buys our tickets and leads me into the elevator.

  “Have I mentioned that I’m afraid of heights?” I ask as we climb higher and higher.

  Matt laughs and then wraps his arm around my shoulders, hugging me against his side. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

  The doors open, and I forget my fear of heights.

  “Oh, it’s so beautiful.”

  I walk to the railing and gaze out at the city that I’ve come to love so much. It’s dark now, and there is a sea of glowing lights below us. The air is still warm. There’s a light breeze, making the ends of my hair tickle my cheek.

  “Come this way.” Matt holds his hand out for mine and leads me around to the opposite side of the deck that looks out over the sound. We can see lit-up ferries and boats floating over the water.

  “Gorgeous,” I whisper.

  “Yes,” he murmurs.

  I glance up to find him looking down at me.

  “You’re a charmer,” I inform him with a laugh.

  “One thing you’ll learn about me, little one, is that I rarely say what I don’t mean.”

  We’re standing side by side, not touching, watching the city around us. It’s amazingly quiet up here.

  Peaceful.

  Suddenly, Matt reaches over and grasps my hand in his, linking our fingers. He doesn’t look down at me, just holds my hand as we watch our city.

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  Okay, maybe Bailey is right. I need to give this a chance.

  Chapter Four


  ~Matt~

  It’s been a long fucking night.

  Asher and I caught a case that kept us up all night long, bouncing from the crime scene to the hospital¸ interviewing family members and speaking with the doctors.

  Domestic disputes are rarely this bad, but when they are, it’s exhausting.

  I arrive home at just before nine Saturday morning. The only thing I can think of is taking a hot shower and climbing into bed, succumbing to oblivion.

  I strip my clothes off, leaving a path of dirty laundry behind me on my way to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and step in before the water even has a chance to heat up all the way, scrubbing the night at work off my body. Just as the water hits scalding level, I shut it off, towel myself dry and pad into my bedroom as my cell phone rings.

  I scowl when I see Asher’s name on the display.

  “Yeah,” I answer and sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Hey, I just picked up the cupcakes for Casey’s birthday party tonight, and I thought I should call you.”

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, my body already on alert and the fatigue forgotten.

  “Nothing’s wrong, but I thought you’d like to know that your girl is swamped in her shop today.”

  “My girl?” I ask drily.

  “I’m not stupid, man. I don’t know what you have going on with her, but I can tell there’s something there. She’s shorthanded and running ragged today. She seems okay, just thought I’d give you a heads-up.”

  “Thanks, partner. I’ll go check on her.”

  “See you tomorrow,” he responds and hangs up.

  I glance longingly at my comfortable bed and resign myself to being awake for a few more hours.

  There’s no way in hell that I’ll leave her to fend for herself today. Not if I can help her.

  I dress quickly in jeans and a black T-shirt and drive quickly to the bakery.

  Sure enough, it takes me five minutes to find parking, and when I finally step inside, there is a line to the door. Nic is smiling widely but clearly overwhelmed, bustling behind the glass case, back and forth between plating cupcakes and ringing up customers.

  This is a two-person job.

  She hasn’t even noticed I’m here when I slip back into the kitchen and grab a spare white apron, pull it over my head and tie it around my waist.

  Oh, we’re going to have fun with her apron very soon.