Hi all! Back with another installment of "Breaking Bella." Thank you so much for the comments and feedback, it means a lot to me.
If you're new here, you might want to check out
Chapter 1
before you read this chapter, although it's not a necessity.
This story deals with pretty heavy abusive/misogynistic themes, in case you don't want to read something with that kind of content. All that being said, I hope you enjoy Chapter 2!
***
Over the next few days, Bella began to think that Jamie's behavior on the day she'd moved in had been a fluke. He seemed to slip back into his usual persona, that of the man she'd fallen head over heels for over the course of only a couple months. On Sunday, they went to church with his parents, who Bella had learned early on were hardcore religious folks. Church was followed by a solemn luncheon during which Jamie announced that Bella had moved in with him. To Bella's surprise, his parents were approving, even pleased.
On Monday, he got up before her, kissed her on the cheek, and was gone for the office before she even rolled out of bed. She vegetated for most of the day before ordering takeout for their dinner. Tuesday morning she put in a little more effort, getting up before Jamie to make him some coffee and eggs and bacon for his breakfast. After lunch, she put in a few miles on the treadmill before collapsing on the sofa with a bag of chips.
She was still there, watching a reality show on TV, when Jamie rolled in at four, earlier than she'd expected him.
"Hey," he said, setting his briefcase down and doffing his jacket. He sounded frankly annoyed. "I called you an hour ago. Where's your phone?"
"Huh?" Bella asked, turning her head toward him. She had been absorbed by the drama playing out onscreen. "Oh, my phone! I must've left it in the bathroom. I'm sorry, baby."
"I should've known there wouldn't be any dinner on the table when I got home," he muttered, heading toward the kitchen. "I knew I should've gone out with the guys for a drink. What the hell was I thinking, coming home early?"
"Hey, it's okay!" Bella jumped up, alarmed. She hit the power button on the remote and followed Jamie into the kitchen. "I'll order us something. Chinese? You always like Chinese."
"Bella, there's no point in you burning through your meager savings ordering us takeout every night," Jamie said, turning to face her. He gestured her into one of the stools at the island counter. "What were you doing, anyway? Did you eat that whole bag of chips? I thought we talked about getting your weight under control. I'm going to have to start locking up the junk food when I'm out of the house."
He was joking. At least she thought he was. Still, it crossed the line. She put her hands on her hips, frowning at him.
"I'm a hundred and forty pounds, Jamie, not two hundred," she said. "Besides, I put in some time on the treadmill this afternoon."
"That's good. So maybe you wouldn't mind putting in some time in the kitchen now and preparing us a nice salad for dinner," he said, loosening his tie. He glanced around. "And pick up the place, it's a dump! I cut the maid's hours since you're around, but it looks untidier than ever."
"It's not my fault you're a big fat neat freak," she muttered, but he was already headed down the hall toward the master bedroom.
She tossed a salad. Mixed greens, tomato, cucumber, vinaigrette. By the time Jamie returned, she'd had a moment to think about her behavior and had become more contrite. She might not like it, but he deserved dinner on the table when he got home. At the very least, he deserved an answer to his phone calls. She brought the salad into the dining lounge that adjoined the kitchen and pecked him on the cheek.
"I'll tidy up after dinner," she said, dropping briefly onto the arm of his chair, the big leather chair he always occupied. She'd begun thinking of it as his throne. "Then how about a movie?"
He glanced at her, his gaze unfocused. He'd fixed himself a drink, which he now swirled in one hand.
"Sure," he said, eyeing the salad bowls. "Thanks for dinner, baby. I think I was a little hard on you."
"No, I get it!" She dropped into her seat. "You had a long day at work, and I've been at home doing absolutely nothing. Well, besides that tiny workout. I'll make sure I keep my phone on me. That way I'll know if you're planning on coming home early again."
"That's an idea," he said. He speared a slice of cucumber on his fork. "My parents were happy to see you again on Sunday. Actually, they're just happy I seem to be settling down. I don't know if I made it clear, but this is the first time I've actually
lived
with someone. I've dated, of course, and I've told you about all my serious relationships, but none of those girls ever moved in. They think you're special, Bells. And so do I."
Heat spilled across Bella's cheeks. She ducked her head, hiding her reaction behind a mouthful of salad.
"You weren't -- " He gave her a sharp look, and she finished chewing and swallowing before she continued. "I'm sorry, excuse me. Were you actually planning to invite me to move in, even without my job situation? I sort of thought that was the instigator."
"Well, I thought I might give you a few more months in that apartment of yours, but yeah, as long as things kept going the way they'd been going, I was going to ask you." He smiled at her. "What can I say? You tick all the boxes. You're gorgeous, you know what I like, you're amenable to my concerns, you're just the right level of intelligent..."
Bella frowned, a little laugh escaping her mouth.
"What does that mean, the right level of intelligent?" she asked.
"I mean, I dated a girl who went to Harvard once," he said. She noticed that he seemed to have no problem speaking with
his
mouth full, but didn't point it out. "Brilliant girl. I mean, brilliant. But brilliant girls have to be right all the time, and they only want it their way. I mean that you're the nice level of intelligent that can still compromise. You're flexible. Flexibility is very important to me, you know."
Bella giggled, thinking about some of the more ambitious sex positions they had attempted in the past.
"Oh, stop it, you know exactly what I mean," Jamie said. He finished his salad, which he had practically wolfed down. "Well, I'll let you clear things up and meet you in the bedroom. And don't worry about the front -- the maid will pick it up tomorrow. Just make an effort to clean as you go next time."
Back in the kitchen, Bella deposited the dirty dishes from dinner in the dishwasher before proceeding down the hall and into the master bedroom, where the lighting was dim. Jamie was reclining in bed, fiddling with two remotes at once, the one to raise and lower the bed itself and the one for the TV. Bella hopped up beside him just as he cast both remotes aside.
"Hey," she said. "What about that movie?"
"I was actually thinking we could try something else tonight," he said, turning toward her. He had finished his drink, and the empty glass sat on the bedside table next to him. "You know, something I'd like. I had a really long day at work. I need to blow off some steam. Could we do something together?"
"Like sex?" Bella asked, pressing herself against him.
"Like sex, but with a twist," he said, looking her dead in the eyes.
"Like one of the things I've vetoed before?" she asked, unable to keep a slight waver out of her voice.
He was already reaching for something in the drawer of the bedside table. Handcuffs, furry pink handcuffs.
"You trust me, don't you, baby?" he murmured, catching her wrist.
"Um, sure." She fidgeted among the bedclothes. "I guess."
"Oh, I almost forgot." He dropped the cuffs to the blankets. "Arms up, baby girl. We ought to get you naked first."
She liked the idea of being naked and cuffed even worse than the idea of being clothed and cuffed, but within a minute he had stripped her down to nothing, casting aside the pretty lingerie set she'd worn underneath her clothes just for him without even a second glance. As he leaned over her, affixing each cuff to her wrist and then to hooks on the headboard she hadn't even noticed, she smelled the alcohol on his breath and became more frightened.
"Jamie, are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Shh. I've got you." He pulled himself astride her, and she found herself pinned down by his greater weight. He loomed above her in the darkness, grinning down at her. "So how do you like it?"
"I don't know." She gave the restraints an experimental tug. Nothing gave. Fear crept up the back of her throat, strong and stifling. "Jamie, could you just take them off me?"
"Hey, just relax." He caught hold of her chin in one hand and squeezed. "Let me have some fun. I just want to blow off some steam."
"Okay," Bella said in a tiny voice.
"Here, this'll help you relax."
He was reaching for the nightstand drawer again. Before she knew what was happening, he had pulled something over her eyes -- a blindfold. She turned her head from one side to the other before realizing that the darkness was complete. She had no more control. She could only feel him, his breath on her face as he leaned down to kiss her hard on the mouth, his hands on her body, roughly fondling her breasts.
Then his weight was gone. She lay adrift in the darkness. To the right she heard rustling. Then something round and rubbery pushed against her mouth.
"Open up, Bells," came his voice from above her.
"Huh?" she began, only to find her voice muffled by the object in her mouth. She realized then what it was: a ball gag, one he'd shown her once before. She wriggled, voicing a muffled protest. He knew she didn't want this! She'd told him before that it was far too demeaning.
