Bound by Her Desire

She couldn't believe he had come into her bar... HER bar!! A hundred bars in this town, and he had to come to hers. Fucker! Yea, he had broken her heart... Dumped her for that skinny blond chic. But she wasn't sitting around crying. Fuck that shit! Lizzy moved down the bar to stand in front of him. Fists moved up to rest on her hips... She wasn't some skinny girl. No, she had strong legs, hips, broad shoulders. Green eyes glared down at him. A strand of red hair had fallen out of her pony tail. She brushed out of her face irritably. He kept his head bowed, elbows on the counter, as he stared into a glass of soda.

"Jack!" She snarled. His head came up slowly. A two day scruff of beard covered his face. There were craggy lines on that face, that hadn't been there before. Brown hair was rumpled. His eyes met hers, then slid away, guilty. Anger flared up hot and raw in her chest. Suddenly her hand came off that hip, and she smacked him hard across the cheek. She hit him so hard it turned his head. The bar went quiet, as everyone turned to stare. Fred rushed over.

"What are you doing, Lizzy?" He hissed, furious. Technically it was his bar, she worked there. But still, Jack had no right to come in here...not after what he had done. Lizzy turned her fiery eyes on Fred, ready to go off on him.

"It's OK, Fred." Jack said, holding up a hand. With the other, he rubbed his jaw. A bright red spot showed up under the scruff. "She has a right to be pissed. I was an ass."

"You think?!!" She snorted. "Why are you here, Jack?"

"I came to say I'm sorry, Lizzy." He gave her a sad look, finally meeting her eyes. "I need to make amends."

"Oh, now you're sorry.... Now you're sorry?!!" Nostrils flared, and she swayed, ready to strike again.

"Go cool off, Lizzy." Fred said, pointing to the back hall. "Maybe you should leave, Jack." Lizzy stood her ground, staring them both down. Jack grabbed his leather jacket off the back of the stool.

"I was stupid, Lizzy, really stupid!" He said, backing away. "I need to talk to you. I'm sober now." He turned, heading for the door, riding boots striking the floor. Liz didn't relax until she heard the hum of a motorcycle engine starting up in the parking lot.

Gravel crunched under her boots, as Lizzy headed out to her truck. It was her baby, the old '79 Chevy, silver and chrome. Fred's Honda sat nearby. Theirs were the only vehicles left at the bar. She was exhausted after work... and all that drama with Jack. A movement off to the left caught her eye. A shadowy form...outside of the ring cast by the parking lot light. It was coming her way.

"STOP!" She commanded. The figure continued to move toward her... Bulky shape, moving with purpose. Ducking low, she had her Smith and Wesson 9mm out, arm extended.... Hand was braced against the hood of the truck. The slap of the slide, as she'd chambered a round, still echoed through the empty lot.

"Oh shit!" Jack hissed, freezing. "Oh God, don't shot me, Liz!" At the sound of his voice, she lowered the gun, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She studied him, as she emptied the round from the chamber, and fed it back into the magazine. There was no sign of his motorcycle here... must be down the road a bit. She tucked the gun back into the waist of her jeans. She didn't say a word, until she had it stowed away. He moved toward her, into the light.

"You're back." It was a statement. Her lips pressed tight. "You shouldn't go sneaking up on people in the dark, Jack."

"No shit!" He grimaced, eyeing her warily. "But Lizzy, I really got to talk to you..." He glanced nervously at the bar. Fred would be coming out any minute. Jack knew the man would not be happy to see him back here.

"Got nothing to say to you." She growled. "Unless you want me to hit you, again."

"You can do that if you want..." He said it so softly that she almost didn't hear him.

"What?"

"I said... You can hit me again, if you want too." A little louder this time. Liz stared at him for a long moment, then strode around the truck to where he stood. She brought her hand down across his face with a resounding SMACK. He stood still, absorbing the blow, eyes closed. Suddenly, she reached up under his open jacket, grabbing a fist full of muscle. It was right where the neck and shoulder met.

"Kneel down, and say you're sorry." She ground out the words. Her hand was pulling on him. Jack hesitated for one split second, then denim hit the dirt. Gravel pressed through the jeans against his skin. He stared up at her in the light.

"Is this what you want? Me on my knees?" He asked. She nodded silently, lust darkening her eyes. Stepping forward, she kicked his knees further apart with the toe of her boot. A hand reached down to run through his hair, then she grabbed a handful and roughly yanked his head back.

"Say it then... Say you're sorry now." She spoke in a low husky tone.

"I'm so sorry, Lizzy!" Came his murmured reply, as he choked back a panting sob. For a second, it looked like she might kiss him. But she thought the better of it, and stepped away, releasing him instead. He moaned at her absence, missing that kiss. He almost missed the words tossed over her shoulder, too...

"Follow me home."

Home was still the trailer, set out on the edge of the desert, on the five acre lot. The moonlight shone so bright, it cast shadows over the landscape. She parked her truck and watched as his Harley pulled through the gate. A canopy stretched along the front of the old renovated Airstream, casting a dark shadow. Moving toward the door, she left him to find his way in. Jack stopped to stare at the place. It used to be his home. She had kept it up nice. Three years ago... The memory hit him like a gut punch. He very nearly hit his knees again...

All they seemed to do was fight, some sort of power struggle, constantly. He was partying a lot with the motorcycle club. She was working at the bar. There was some dumb blond hanging on him every chance she got. Lizzy was pissed. He kept telling her to relax, trust him. She wanted him to tell the girl to get lost... Said it was his job to do that... to let the bitch know he was taken. He never told her that there was nothing going on with that girl. Just kept insisting that she should trust him, told her to back off. One night, things blew up something fierce. Another big fight, Lizzy crying in the small kitchen. He was drunk again. Yanking the trailer's title out of a file, he signed it over to her... threw it down on the table. Then he had packed up his saddle bags and drove off into the night. Stupid! Left her here, all alone... So far from friends and family. Riding on the side roads, he took two weeks to get up to Washington State. Then, still angry with her, he got a job as a lumberjack. Took him about three months to realize what a mistake he had made... Yea, he was pretty thick headed. Once it hit him... The reality of what he had done, he was too ashamed to go home, or even call. It took three years of kicking himself in the ass, before he decided to at least a try to come home.

'Here goes nothing' He thought, watching the lights come on in the trailer... But there had been something there, when he had knelt for her tonight... right? Had he misunderstood that look of desire in her eyes? He walked to the door and knocked. A muffled "Come in" from inside. Heart in his throat, Jack yanked open the metal door and stepped up the stairs. Liz was sitting in almost exactly the same spot as she had been the night he left... Only now she wasn't crying. Now, she had her arms crossed, regarding him with a stony stare. Yea, she had gotten tougher over these past few years... No doubt about that!

A pair of handcuffs sat on the table. He eyed them curiously. She had always been bossy... pushy even, but never kinky. His cock throbbed hard in his faded jeans. They were too tight to hide anything. She eyed his crotch with a raised brow.

"Been gone a long time, Jack." No trace of the sweet smile that used to light that freckled, sun kissed face.

"I was an asshole" He said, wondering how many more times he would have to say that.

"Was? Something change?" Such a hard look.

"Yea... I grew up. I realized how much I want you, how much I need you." Maybe this had been a bad idea, coming back. Maybe she just wouldn't take him back.... Wouldn't forgive him.

"Did the blonde bitch leave you? Is that why you're crawling back?" Stone cold.

"I never was with that girl, Lizzy. She just hung on me. I... I should have told you. Should have told her to get lost..." He felt drained and sad.

"What?" She frowned. "What the fuck, Jack... All that fighting we did, you weren't even with her? Why?"

"I wanted to be with you...." He looked down and scuffed his boot on the floor.

"NO!!" She roared. "I mean... Why didn't you tell me you weren't with her?!!" She had come up off the bench seat and had a fistful of the front of his shirt. At 5'8", she did not have far to look, to make eye contact. He only had two inches on her. She shoved him back, and he lost his balance, grabbing the counter. Panting, he regained his footing, but stood open to her, not making a move to get out of her grasp. Three years ago he would have yanked away from her and stormed off. But she was touching him... that was enough. His breath hitched, as he looked down at her. There it was again, that lust in her eyes. Chest rising and falling quickly, she stared back at him... A challenging look. He held her gaze for a few seconds, then glanced away... yielding. He had never done that. A buzzing feeling filled him, and he felt lightheaded. Glancing back at the hand cuffs on the table, he shivered.

"It was stupidity... Sheer stupidity..." He said, drawing his eyes back to hers... trying to let her see into his heart. Her face softened ever so slightly, and she let go of his shirt... moved back to the table and sat down with a sigh.

"Where've you been all this time?" She wasn't looking at him... she was staring out the darkened trailer windows.

"Washington... Lumberjacking." He knew how crazy it must sound to her.

"Why?" She frowned again, looking more confused than angry.

"Because I was stu...."

"I know... I heard you the first six times! You were stupid and an asshole... I got that!" She was angry again. Green eyes flashing ... "But for three years, Jack?"

"I didn't know how to say I was sorry, until now." He murmured, hands spread. She had to lean forward to hear him, then leaned back on the seat and nodded absently. A full two minutes of silence went by. Jack stayed very still, waiting for her to finish thinking. Abruptly, her voice broke the quiet.

"Would you get back on your knees for me, Jack?" She turned to him, dark desire back in her eyes. Swallowing, he lowered himself to his knees again, keeping his eyes cast down. The hardness of his erection was painful, and he felt hot with embarrassment. He heard her stand, and saw her boots come into his line of vision. Again, she kicked his knees wider, and he heard a whimper. It took him a second to realize that the sound came from his own throat.

"Take off your shirt." She said, the words drifting down. Quickly unbuttoning enough buttons to get the thing over his head, Jack yanked it out of the waist of his belted jeans. He pulled it off, further ruffling his hair. Before he could figure out what to do with it, she took it from his hands and tossed it on one of the bench seats. She walked around him, running a hand over his lean hard shoulders and back.

"Fuck, Jack... you got really ripped..." It was ropey muscle, gained from hard manual labor. She came back in front of him and ran a hand through the light dusting of brown curls on his chest. The hand circled a small nipple, then pinched it hard between her fingertips. He grunted, grimacing, unused to the sharp bright pain. She had never been like this before... They had always just fucked, like regular people, and it had been good. They'd done oral too, made each other feel great... But this... this had his heart racing and his brain spinning out of control. She pinched the other nipple and he made that whimpering sound again. Had he fallen off a cliff somewhere? Was this a dream? The pain that flared, when she roughly twisted them both, snapped him back to reality. Letting out a hoarse cry, he sucked his chest in and started to reach for the counter... to pull himself up. What was she doing? A hand pressed down on his shoulder, and she grabbed a handful of hair, pulling his head back again.

"If you get up, without my telling you to, you're walking back out that door... Understand?" She spoke slowly as she leaned down to his ear. He nodded and sank back to his knees. Holy fuck, what was happening? Abruptly, she stepped away from him, back to the table. Um, that beautiful ass.... But he was distracted by a clink of metal, as she scooped up the hand cuffs. Oh, shit! His dick throbbed, and for a second, he thought he might hyperventilate.

"Stand up and turn around." She said. There was a calm kind of confidence about her now. So new. He stood and turned, waiting.

"Put your hands behind your neck, Jack" It was said as if she knew he would do it... and he did, even interlacing his fingers. But, as the metal closed around his left wrist, he grew a little panicky.

"Do you have the keys for these, Lizzy?"He tried to look over his shoulder at her. She ignored him, as she fastened the cuff around the right wrist. Then, returning to stand in front of him, she pulled at a necklace that hung around her neck. He hadn't noticed it before. It fell down inside the V of her "Fred's Bar" t-shirt. She pulled it out and displayed the little hand-cuff keys that dangled at the end of the chain. He nodded, breathing a little sigh of relief, and was surprised by the smile that touched her lips.

"How many guys have you locked up like this, Liz?" He asked, swallowing.

"You're my first" She said thoughtfully.

"Then why were you carrying the keys around?" He felt awkward asking these questions, while he stood there cuffed, hands behind his head.

"Been hoping for the right guy to come along." The words sounded more like a thought then an answer... God, this all was so confusing... But so arousing! He had come here to apologize to her... but, who was this woman now? The warm tingling in his balls told him that whoever she was, she had his attention.

"We're going to the bedroom." She stated, as her hand slide up under the belt at the back of his jeans. She pushed him forward down the narrow hall. To make it through the tight space, he had to fold his elbows in around his head. He was pushed in through the bedroom door. The bed was neatly made, the room tidy, except for two objects that caught his attention. On the bedspread sat a magazine and a hot pink vibrator. The magazine made him come to an abrupt stop, and she almost stumbled into his back. On the cover was a kneeling man, with a round black ball gag strapped across his mouth. Rope criss-crossed the man's body, tying his arms down tightly to his torso. Some sort of metal was clamping each nipple. "Bound By Desire" was splashed across the top of the page. He stood transfixed, until she pushed her way around him, sweeping the magazine and vibrator off the bed. "Oh for Christ's sake... It's just porn!" She sounded annoyed, as she dumped it into the drawer of a bedside table. His throat worked for words, but he was too stunned... Stunned that his sweet Lizzy would have something like that. Heat filled his core, and the image of the bound man was burned into his brain. A rough yank against is his arm brought him back to reality.

"Stand in front of the bed, Jack."

Once she had him facing away from the bed, calves nearly touching the frame, Lizzy went to work on his belt. As she unbuckled it, her knuckles scrapped against the warm skin of his belly. A line of dark soft curls traced the center of his abs, sliding down into his jeans. She watched with satisfaction, as the muscles ripped at her touch, and his breath caught. Slowly, she unsnapped the jeans, then slid the fly down. The outline of his thick cock sat to one side of his fly, black cotton boxer briefs holding it snug. There was a wet spot at the tip of that bulge. She felt a zing of fire run through her at the sight of it. This would be so much better then looking at the magazines and websites! Quickly, she worked the jeans down to his ankles, then yanked his underwear off his hips... Careful to avoid touching the dick that bobbed out of the confines of his clothing, she pushed the underwear down to sit with his jeans. Reaching up, she lifted his cuffed arms above his head, bringing them to rest in front of his body.

"Relax." She commanded, as she shoved him roughly to sprawl backward on the bed. "Move up toward the top." Arms crossed, she watched him hitch himself awkwardly up the bed. It was a difficult task with his hands and feet hampered. Once he was positioned to her liking, she moved up beside him, placing a hand on that taut belly.

"Put your hands over your head." The bed was on a handcrafted platform frame with a built- in headboard. The headboard contained metal railings. Lizzy, and her carpenter friend Roger, had made it a year ago. She loved it... could not wait to finally use it as she had originally intended. How many nights had she dreamed of this? Kicking off her boots, she climbed up the bed and straddled his chest. She pulled the chain out from her shirt and leaned forward, across his face, unlocking a cuff. Then the cuff was threaded through one of the metal rails, and reattached to his wrist. Jack rubbed his face against her breasts as they slid by. Growling, she sat back and smacked him hard across the face, for the third time that night.

"Did I tell you to do that?" She asked, staring down at him. He shook his head ever so slightly, but did not look repentant. Grabbing a nipple, she twisted hard. His body jerked under her and he grunted. She reached for the other one, and he shied away...

"OK!" He gasped. "I'm sorry... I won't do it again." He licked a lip nervously, but as she slid back, her jeans grazed roughly against his hard cock. She eyed it, then looked back at him. His gaze shifted, embarrassed. Climbing off, she headed for the bedroom door.

"I'm going to take a shower. I smell like the bar." She turned back for another long look at him... cuffed to her bed, naked save for the tangled clothes around his ankles and his biker boots. His dick was erect and throbbing, dripping precum. A shudder ran through her, and this time her growl was one of primal lust.

"Don't go anywhere." It came out in a raspy whisper.

"You're not leaving me like this, are you, Lizzy?" He asked, eyes imploring. She shot him a sadistic grin and left the room.

It seemed like an eternity, waiting there, cuffed to the bed. Jack listened to the sound of her in the shower. For a moment, he contemplated whether he could get out of the cuffs, if he wanted to. No, it wasn't possible. That gave him a few minutes of panic, but then he forced himself to calm down... and admit that he didn't want out. He thought about that for a little while, and his drooping cock came back to life. He groaned and wished she would hurry... knowing she was taking her sweet time. Finally, she came into the room in a soft white bathrobe. She went to a drawer and dug through it. Her red hair was combed out and hung damp over her shoulders. Pulling a few things out, she left the room again, not looking at him. The tune she was humming caught his ear. Jack followed her with his eyes, then threw his head back against the bed in frustration.

After dressing, she returned to the room. A tight white tank top, low cut, showed off her ample breasts and lean waist. A pair of black and white checkered boy shorts accented her flat belly and full hips. She moved up to his side. With the knuckles of one hand, she traced his bristly jaw line. She loved how he stared at her with those vulnerable eyes. The knuckles came up to trace his lips, and she fed a finger into his mouth.