Chapter Ten

 

 

 

“Let’s sit here.”

Royce put the sack with their sandwiches down on the bench, and Katie sat beside him. They were at one of the city’s many public piers downtown, getting ready to watch the sunset and eat a light dinner. He passed her the turkey and cheese she’d ordered at the sub shop around the block while he unwrapped his ham on rye. It was Sunday evening and although they hadn’t gotten to spend as much time together this week as she would’ve liked, she was happy that he was finally caught up on his writing.

“The skyline at sunset is just gorgeous.” She bit into her sandwich and reached into the paper sack for the bag of chips they’d gotten to share.

“I have a request.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I feel like I’ve shared a lot about myself, but there’s so much I still don’t know about you. Will you tell me something about you that I don’t know?”

“I’m pretty boring,” she insisted without meeting his gaze. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Well, let’s start with something basic. What kind of job did you used to do in New York? What sort of work was it that made you realize it wasn’t for you and you wanted to become an artist?”

She bit into her sandwich and chewed as slowly as possible. As much as she hated to admit it, Royce had a point. She had no problem giving over her body to him, so why couldn’t she share parts of her past just as easily? Her secrets and emotional baggage weren’t the kind of things she could confide to him, at least not until they got to know one another better. There must be some way to tell him a little bit about her old life without giving him the whole story.

“I used to work in the fashion industry, which as you can see wasn’t the right field for me.” She gestured to her khaki shorts and plain gray T-shirt. “It just got to the point where everything I did felt forced. Fake. I hated it.” She turned to face him, staring into his green eyes and looking for some understanding in his gaze.

“So that’s something else we have in common. That sounds a lot like me when I worked in finance back in Boston.”

Her head snapped back at the mention of the word finance.

“I know. That’s it exactly. Can you imagine me dealing with numbers all day? It was a nightmare. I partially pursued that career path because my parents assured me it was an easy field to get a job in. Unlike writing.”

“Yet, here we are. We’re both in our late twenties, doing the kind of work that we love and we’re finding a way to make our dreams a reality.”

“Eloquently put.”

“Nah, I’m not eloquent. That is,” she said as she pointed to the way the sun burned on the horizon.

The water glistened with the reflection of the orange orb while the sky was colored in rich pink and purple hues. They sat in companionable silence and finished their dinner as the sun set. Once twilight hit, they walked back to Royce’s car and headed to Katie’s house for the evening.

 

* * * *

 

Since it was early and they had nothing else to do for the rest of the night, Katie had suggested they take a bath together. Actually, she’d said a bath sounded heavenly and Royce had invited himself into the tub with her. Since the two of them were bathing together, she tried to make it a romantic experience by adding bubbles and lighting a few candles.

“This is relaxing. At least it is for me. Our bath seems to have you all fired up,” she said as she rubbed her lower back against his erection.

He groaned when their slick flesh made contact. “Damn, do that again.”

Obeying, she glided against him one more time. “My fingertips look like prunes. I think I’ve had enough for the evening. Are you getting out, too?” She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, especially when you’re naked.”

Giggling, she hopped out of the tub then toweled off. Royce released the stopper from the drain and reached for the clean towel that Katie held out to him as the water gurgled away. When they were dry, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close.

“Don’t even bother putting anything on, at least not yet.”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t dare.” She leaned in and gave him a light kiss.

After they headed into the bedroom together, she flopped onto the bed. Royce stalked toward her while still naked and stopped at the nightstand to grab a condom. He shut the drawer and climbed onto the bed, but then seemed to have second thoughts. He walked back into the bathroom, and she could hear him rummaging through their clothes on the floor.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not a thing,” he told her as he walked toward her with his leather belt in his hand.

Her heartbeat accelerated and the lips of her pussy became slick as several thoughts filled her mind. What kind of naughty plans did he have for her that involved his belt? Was he going to whip her ass with it? Memories of the other night’s light spanking made her clit throb.

He put one knee on the mattress and leaned down to drop a kiss on her mouth.

“Put your hands up over your head. Good, now clasp them together.”

Doing as she was told, she held her hands together above her head. He wound the leather of his belt around her wrists and with some fancy twisting he buckled the thing, binding her wrists together. She tried to move her hands. They didn’t budge. She was tightly bound and the idea made her so damn hot she couldn’t stand it.

Royce flipped the light switch off and plunged them into darkness. He raced into the bathroom and brought back two lit candles and placed them on her chest of drawers. The soft, flickering light cast the room in a sultry mood. Stalking back to her once more, Royce sat on the bed then came over her and nibbled along her collarbone. Rolling her lips inward, she stifled a moan. Good God, he’d only just begun touching her and already she was coming unhinged.

As his mouth trailed downward, she wiggled beneath him. Her breath came in shallow pants as he circled her nipple with his nimble tongue. His teeth nipped at the tight bud and, moaning, she bucked at the contact. Her arousal was heightened once again when he placed several slow, open-mouthed kisses along her abdomen. Scissoring her legs, she could feel the silky wetness trickling out of her.

Scooting down, he wedged his wide shoulders between her legs. He blew softly and a cool stream of air hit the nub at the apex of her thighs. The breeze caused her clit to draw up even tighter, and her back bowed off the mattress. He kissed the insides of both thighs and traced a line with his tongue on the crease between her leg and pelvis. He finally found her clit with his mouth, licking at her with an intensity she hadn’t experienced before. With only a few strokes, he brought her to release. She cried out his name as she came on a long, trembling climax.

She lay still, her eyes closed, her body relaxed from her orgasm. Royce released the restraints around her wrists. She stretched her arms and spread her fingers. Reaching for him, she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and moved her grip up and down the shaft. He seemed lost in the sensations and remained still where he was on his knees on the mattress next to her.

“You know, this evening’s fun and games will come to an end if you keep stroking me like that.”

“Come,” she giggled. “Interesting word choice.” She loosened her grasp on his erection and moved her hand lower to cup his sac. “Get closer to me.”

He followed her command and scooted closer to her while still on his knees. When his pelvis was near her face, she rolled over on her side and put his cock in her mouth. Royce muttered something indiscernible and flattened both palms against the wall above the headboard to steady himself.

Still cupping his balls, she eased more of his length into her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around the head a few times. She massaged his sac, and sliding her index finger backward, she stroked his perineum with the pad of her pointer. He cried out and his body started to shudder.

“Baby, I’m gonna stop you right there, ‘cause if I don’t, then I won’t be able to get inside you. And I need to be inside you.”

Reluctantly, she let go of his sac and removed him from her mouth. He climbed off the bed and put a condom on. Royce climbed back on top of her. Kissing her, he tasted faintly of her arousal. When he broke their mouths apart, she opened her eyes. His face was above hers, inches away, and their gazes were locked as he moved inside her.

Whether it was because of their stare or something else, neither of them lasted long. Her body bounced back from the release she’d had only moments ago and another orgasm claimed her.

She came and her moan filled the air at the same time Royce groaned against her neck.

 

* * * *

 

After pouring herself a second cup of coffee, Katie offered the pot to Royce, but he declined. She’d made them a light breakfast, and feeling pleasantly stuffed and lightly buzzed from the caffeine, he knew he should get going on his day.

“What are your plans for today?”

“I have to see my editor about a story I’m working on.”

“An editor? I thought you were just writing your book hoping to find an agent or another means to publish it. I hadn’t realized that you were working with an editor. That’s awesome.”

“Oh, no. Sorry for the misunderstanding. I’m also a freelance reporter. I have a meeting with my editor about the latest assignment he gave me.”

Katie gripped her coffeepot until her knuckles were white. Royce didn’t understand why him talking about his editor had suddenly made her so tense. Unless maybe she wasn’t upset or tense from that admission from him? He hoped she wasn’t on the verge of one of her anxiety episodes. She’d seemed to be getting better lately. He hadn’t recalled her having an attack since before they’d started sleeping together.

Although what he saw in front of him was cause for concern. Her face looked as though it was drained of all blood.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Clearly, she was anything but fine. She placed the coffeepot back on the warming burner under the coffeemaker and leaned against the counter. He couldn’t see her face, her back was to him, but he could tell by her behavior and her posture that the situation wasn’t good. She was upset about something. He looked down at his plate of food. He’d eaten all his French toast. It had been amazing, so he couldn’t have made her mad by not eating her cooking.

“Are you sure? Is it your anxiety? Do you need to do some deep-breathing exercises?”

“No, I’m fine.”

She was still staring at the cabinets. He couldn’t see her face. Royce rose from the chair and walked the few steps to stand at her back. He stroked her shoulders. She jumped at his touch and turned her face away from his so he couldn’t read her expression. What the hell was going on? Was she pissed off because he was meeting with his editor? Had she wanted him to spend the day with her but she felt like she couldn’t ask him to ditch his responsibilities? Maybe he needed to offer to change his plans.

“Hey, I can reschedule. Allen will understand. If you had something else in mind for us to do today we can do whatever you want. Or if you’d like, you could come with me to his office. It’s downtown, so there are lots of other things to do in the vicinity and I’m usually never there long. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

She shook her head, but said nothing. The only sound coming from her was the inhalation and exhalation of her breaths. Her head was turned away from him, so he still couldn’t read her. When she finally turned to face him, her expression looked calm, but unreadable. It looked as though she was masking something or hiding some emotion. What was going on?

“I’m fine, Royce. Really. Go ahead and meet with your editor. I’ll probably go somewhere to sketch today. Just call or text me later and we’ll catch up.”

She pushed off the counter and walked to the table. She cleared their breakfast dishes away and started wiping down the stove. There was still something bugging her, but he didn’t know what it could be and if he was responsible for pissing her off so badly. He hoped that whatever it was bothering her, she would want to talk about it later. Maybe letting her cool off was the best solution. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, then she flitted around her tiny kitchen. He said his goodbye and promised to call her later on.

 

As soon as she heard Royce leave her apartment, she dropped the silverware she held in her hands into the stainless steel sink with a clatter. Her hands were shaking and she let the unshed tears begin to slide down her cheeks.

He was a reporter.

No matter that he worked on a freelance and not a full-time basis, he was still a member of the media. She’d had more than her fair share of dealings with the horrid, bloodthirsty bastards. Now she’d gone and invited one into her life. She was supposed to be keeping a low profile.

Great job. Wonderful sense of judgment on my part.

A sob escaped her throat and echoed in her empty apartment when a new thought entered her mind. What if Royce knew? What if he had already recognized her? What if he knew that she was Katherine Dawson and this whole thing between them was just an act so he could get his story? Or what if he planned on blackmailing her until she promised to give him an exclusive? She didn’t want to think that he could be capable of something that devious. Not the man who had made love to her so fervently, the man who had so tenderly comforted her when she’d been in the throes of anxiety attacks. In every move and situation she’d seen him in he’d shown that he cared. He’d shown kindness. Her experience with the press had never been about caring, kindness or tenderness. In fact, she was convinced that members of the media were their own special breed. Heartless, vulgar monsters that had been bred to exploit, stalk and persecute.

Could Royce really do that to her? Or to anyone?

She had a hard time envisioning him as a cut-throat bastard. Before she completely cursed her naïveté and convinced herself she was insane, she replayed their conversation over in her mind. She should have played it cooler. She should have asked some questions. For instance, what publication did he write for? What kinds of pieces did he write? For all Katie knew, he could write niche pieces for the local tech newspaper. There were lots of media outlets in Seattle. Not all of them were of the bloodsucking gossip rag variety that she’d been exposed to in Manhattan. Perhaps he worked for a more reputable, upstanding company.

“Who the hell am I kidding?”

She threw her dishtowel down on the kitchen counter and cursed herself for being such a Pollyanna. Looking around her apartment, she mentally started calculating what she would take and what she would leave if she had to run again. If Royce was a reporter hot on a lead story about her, she’d take off again. No matter what her heart might be telling her or what she was feeling for him, she couldn’t risk him outing her.

The knock on her door made her jump. Was it already starting? Had the paparazzi found her here?

“Yoo-hoo. Oh, hello, sweetie. I just saw Royce’s car pull out of the driveway, so I thought I’d stop in. We haven’t talked in a while. Oh, dear. What’s wrong?”

Katie shrugged and her knees wobbled.

“Sit down, honey. Now, what’s going on? Did he hurt you? Did he say something stupid? I’ll have to set that young man straight if he did.” Marie tugged at the collar of her housedress with the intensity of a street thug palming a pistol.

Katie smiled. She had no doubts the older woman meant business and could handle Royce, or anyone else she came into contact with.

“He’s a reporter,” she whispered. The tears were washing over her face now. Somehow saying those three words out loud made them all the more terrible to her own ears.

“Oh, honey. Well, what else do we know? Has he given any indication that he’s on to you? Do you know what types of articles he writes or which publication he works for?”

She shook her head in response. “Negative to all. I do know he’s just a freelancer. It sounds as though he only gets a couple of assignments a week. I have no idea the kinds of things he writes.”

An idea sprang into her head. There was one quick way to find out what he wrote and who he worked for. She jumped from the kitchen table and ran to her bedroom. She emerged a couple seconds later with her laptop in her hands.

“We’re going to do some investigating ourselves,” she told Marie as she powered the computer up.

A quick Internet search of Royce Reynolds told her that he’d written for several publications in the Seattle area. According to his bio on the newspaper’s website, Royce was a graduate from a small college back east with a degree in finance and a minor in creative writing. She clicked on a few of his articles and some of the tension left her spine. Royce mainly wrote features on local artists and art-related events. She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t some ball-busting investigative reporter, thank goodness.

“Did you find anything?” Marie pulled up a chair next to her and looked at the screen over her shoulder. “Oh dear, I hope he doesn’t decide to do a write-up on you or any of the art events you might be featured in at a future date.”

Katie waved off Marie’s suggestion. Despite the pressure she was under from everyone she knew in the Seattle to get her work out there for the world to see, she had no plans for entering contests or being featured in gallery exhibits. Her art was just a form of self-expression and a way for her to find her center. It wasn’t something she wanted to do for money and she definitely wasn’t seeking any notoriety for the things she created.

“I don’t know. A part of me is relieved that he’s not some big-time investigative journalist, but there’s this nagging feeling…”

“Like what?”

“It’s just an awfully big coincidence that this man that suddenly appeared in my life happens to be a reporter, and here I am a celebrity in hiding. I mean, don’t you think it’s odd, Marie?”

“Honey, when you get to be my age you understand that life is odd. It’s full of irony, coincidences and weird circumstances. Trust me. God most definitely does have a sense of humor. You also don’t get to be as old as I am without being pretty good at reading people. Royce is a good one. I know that. I don’t think you have anything to worry about with that man.”

“I wish I could trust as easily. I don’t know. So many things in my life have taught me that people aren’t worth trusting. It’s hard not to close yourself off to others.”

“You didn’t close yourself off to me. You haven’t closed yourself off to your friend Barb. Maybe it’s just men you seem to have a hard time being open and trusting with.”

“You’re very right. After Nathan…I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be completely open again.”

“Don’t let one bad experience ruin you for the rest of your life.”

Nodding, she knew Marie was right. She also knew it wouldn’t be that easy to just let go of all that she’d gone through before. With the uncertainty weighing heavily on her mind, she decided to take a day or two to think about things.

 

* * * *

 

Her cell phone lit up. She looked at the caller ID and decided not to answer. Royce was calling her. Again.

He’d called and come by her apartment numerous times over the past several days, and she had avoided him or provided excuses every time. She was still unsure how she felt about dating a reporter. Freelance or not, art reporter or not, it was risky.

A knock on her door caused her to jump. She walked to the door then looked through the peephole and was relieved to see it was just Barb. She’d forgotten all about their plans for today. Sketching was the last thing she felt like doing, but she couldn’t just blow off her only friend in Seattle.

“Hi, you ready to go? Oh, damn. Are you sick or something?”

She glanced down at her robe. It was mid-afternoon and she was still in her pajamas. She hadn’t put on real clothes since she’d grown distant toward Royce days earlier. Barb didn’t need to know that, though.

“Come on in. I don’t know if I’m up for sketching today, unless you want to sketch the interior of my apartment. I’m so not in the mood to join the outside world today.”

“What happened? Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that,” she said and flopped onto her couch.

“Did the son of a bitch break your heart?”

“No, it’s nothing he did, really. These are my issues.”

“Katie, you seemed so happy the last time we talked. It seemed as if being with Royce was helping you, and I don’t just mean with your anxiety. There was a confidence in you that I hadn’t seen before. I realize we haven’t known each other long, but sometimes you’ve just got to get out of your own way.”

“Let me ask you this… If…there was someone you were dating and you found out that what they did for a living conflicted with one of your triggers, could you continue seeing him?”

“I’m not following here. Give me a less vague example.”

“Okay, for instance, could you date a bookie knowing you have a gambling problem?”

“Absolutely not. Hold on. Shit, is Royce doing something illegal? Does he sell black-market anxiety meds or something?”

“God, no. His job isn’t illegal. And to most people it’s not even immoral. I just happen to hate what he does as a freelancer.”

“Give me a hint. Actually, screw the hint. Can’t you just come right out and say it? What the hell does he do?”

“He’s a freelance reporter.”

“That’s it? Damn, I was picturing all these shady scenarios in my mind. Since he’s a nude model I thought maybe he’s, like, a male escort or something. So, he’s a reporter. What’s the big deal?”

If only she could tell Barb.

“I despise the media. To me they do nothing but stoke people’s fears. I just can’t believe I’m dating someone who does that.”

“What kind of stuff does he write? Is he a hard-hitting journalist or something? If he’s freelance, how much damage can he cause? Maybe it’s not his full-time career.”

“Well, it’s not a hobby. He writes mainly features and human interest pieces on artists.”

“You should use that to your advantage, not push him away. I mean, it’s unethical to ask him to write something up about you or any of your friends in the art community, but I bet he has connections.”

She put her hands over her eyes and tried to tune Barb out. Even though she knew her friend meant well, all she could think about was how much her pep talk sounded just like her mother. The conversation actually reminded her of a discussion she’d had with her not long before the wedding. Evangeline had never been one to shy away from taking every opportunity presented before her. Most of the time, her mother created her own opportunities by exploiting and manipulating others. She knew Barb meant no harm by her suggestion, but Katie wouldn’t use Royce or any contacts he might have in the art world for her own personal gain. The move reeked of Evangeline and she’d sooner walk down the street naked than do anything that was like her mother.

“Hello? Anyone home? Have you heard anything I said?”

“Huh? Sorry, I think I spaced out there a minute. I missed it.”

“I said, I know it sounds like recovery bullshit, but it’s true when they say that the only way out is through. If the fact that Royce is a reporter makes your anxiety spike, then maybe you need to explore that. Maybe facing those issues head-on is the only way to get rid of them. I mean, come on. You can’t throw this thing away because you got a little scared or something made you anxious. You know as well as I do that once you start doing that you might as well curl up in a little ball and wave a white flag, because letting your issues control you is no kind of life.”

Begrudgingly, she realized that Barb was right. Royce was good for her and she cared about him, even if she didn’t like what he did for a living. Like it or not, he had been a crucial part to her overcoming her panic attacks. It was true that if she didn’t step up now and take control, she’d be right back where she was a couple of weeks ago.

She didn’t want that.

She wouldn’t allow that to happen to her again.