Surrender Ch. 01

Damn...who knew?

"I...wanted to talk to you." His voice was slowly shifting back to its normal, raspy edge. "I've been trying to call you. Why haven't you answered?"

Nora looked at him with a perturbed expression, as if expecting him to read her mind. She had one hand resting on the curve of her hip and the other stretched to her side. Her hair fell down to frame her heart-shaped face in blonde waves that softened her already feminine features that made her look more like a beach-blonde, surfer babe, rather than a bad-ass cop, who could tackle a man to the ground at a dead sprint, or climb up a ten foot fence with barely a struggle.

Nora's expression softened the longer she stared at him. "Because I changed my number. I never received your calls."

"What?" Stephen asked, shocked. "Why? Why didn't you tell me? Sargent Weller is going to be pissed when he finds out. Why haven't you told headquarters...?"

"Stephen," Nora quickly cut him off. She lifted both hands to run through the long length of her hair before taking a frustrated step forward. "I'm no longer Sargent Weller's concern, or yours, for that matter." This time she placed both hands on her hips and bit down on her lower lip, which Stephen had observed as a subtle habit to defuse her nerves. "I'm no longer an Occult Crimes Unit officer." She fidgeted from under his chastising gaze. "I'm sorry; I should have told you." She threw her arms down as if exasperated and started to walk past him, but Stephen reached out to grab her arm.

"What the hell is going on with you, Nora?" His grip on her arms tightened, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me."

She lifted her hands as if to push him away, but quickly let them fall back down to her sides. "Stephen, please. Let's not make a big deal out of this."

"No," he nearly shouted. "After two years, after all that we've been through; I deserve an explanation." His raspy voice turned bitter as he glared at her. "You owe me that much."

Nora looked up at him with sad, golden eyes that held far more secrets than what she clearly intended to reveal. "I need to get away from here."

"Here?" he shouted.

"New York." Her voice was surprisingly firm. "There's too much crime. It's too cold, too loud, too busy, too many people. I need peace and quiet."

Stephen let go of her shoulders and glared down at her. "I get it." His voice turned deep and harsh. "You're running away from something."

She jerked to regard him with another phoney warning glare. "Don't make the mistake by thinking that you know me, detective Marshall." Her golden eyes beamed with anger, with fire, with fear?

"I do know you, detective Simmons," he countered loudly, no longer able to contain his frustration. "Or at least I thought I did." He couldn't help but to glance down at her barely clothed chest. Her heart was racing; her breasts pushing hard against the knot in her towel. He could see the thin vein on the side of her neck pulsing; her breathing was fast, too. She was hiding something.

And then he looked closer. There, hiding behind the long flays of her hair, he caught a glimpse of a bruise on her collar bone. It was fairly big, and matched perfectly with the two smaller bruises on the opposite side of her neck.

Finger bruises.

Stephen didn't allow his gaze to linger; he merely glanced at the floor before placing his hands on his hips. He stared at the carpet unseeingly, and then quietly turned toward the door as if to leave. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed her expression shift from defiance to fear, and then he immediately halted in his tracks. "I just have one question." He lowered his voice and pivoted in time to see a single tear slide down the side of her face. "What happened in the study?"

Seemingly caught off guard by his question, Nora regarded him with wide eyes of golden flames that had all but lost their vibrant glow of light. "We...uh...I had an accident."

Stephen turned to face herr. "We?" He reached her side and stared intently at her, holding her wavering gaze that seemed to tremble beneath him. "Nora," he said again, this time more demanding. "Who is 'we'?"

"Calvin," she said quietly.

Stephen wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "Your boyfriend?"

She averted his gaze. "He's not my boyfriend. He was an acquaintance." She tried to brush past him. "Look, Stephen; it's none of your business..."

Stephen grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into him. "As far as I'm concerned you are still my partner. Therefore you are my business." He continued to hold her hand, partially to keep her from trying to escape him, but mostly because he could feel her trembling. It didn't take a genius to recognize a frightened woman, no matter how brave or tough she appeared on the outside.

When she didn't answer him, he lifted his other hand to brush away her hair, where he gently lay his hand on her collar bone. "Did he do this?" He spoke low and calm, uncertain if she would recoil from his touch and slam a hard fist into his gut, or to reach for her Glock and plant a bullet into his heart.

But much to his dismay, she only looked at him. "It's not what you think." Her voice was still uneven, although more firm. "I let him do it."

Stephen blinked his response. "I don't understand."

She wiggled out of his embrace to take a few steps back. "Calvin and I met six years ago while working on a murder case."

"He was a cop?" Stephen asked, surprised.

"He still is," Nora said softly, shocking him even more. "Although he transferred to Detroit a couple years back and works mostly bail bonds, now. He was my partner before you were, and as you are well aware of there were a lot of late nights at the office and on patrol; a lot of time together. Things got hot between us and out of control." She folded her arms over her chest as if the memory either aroused or discomforted her.

Or enraged her.

"And that's why he transferred," Stephen assumed aloud between clenched teeth.

Nora nodded. "Six months after his transfer he contacted me and wanted to meet up. I couldn't refuse him." She bent her head to stare at the floor.

Stephen took a step closer, his dark eyes narrow with disbelief. "Did you love him?"

She jerked to regard him before a hint of a smile crept across her face. Her eyes flashed their usual golden tint before she parted her mouth to speak. "Calvin and I share a similar sexual interest, Stephen. That is all."

Stephen grit his teeth together to keep from slamming his fists through the wall. "So, Calvin beats you and you like it? Is that what you mean by 'similar sexual interests'?"

How had he not known about this to begin with? How had he been so blind? Two years of being Nora's partner and he knew nothing. He had picked up on zero clues. Her choice of clothing should have been a red flag.

Hello, dip-shit? Who the hell wears a jacket during the summer?

"Stephen," Nora said calmly. "It doesn't matter anymore. I have an interview next week and I'll be gone soon."

"No," Stephen said firmly, taking an aggressive step forward. "I'm not going to loose you, Nora, not because of some fuck head who thinks he can get away with beating you."

"Stephen." Nora closed the space between them and reached out to grab his shoulders. "Calvin never beat me. He never did anything that I didn't want him to."

He looked at her with a guarded expression, his eyes narrow, his hands clenched at his sides, his entire body tensed and ready to slam a hard fist into Calvin's face. But one look into Nora's golden, pleading eyes was enough to silence most of his anger. "I just don't understand," he said slowly.

She stared at him in silence, with narrow eyes that seemed to study him more thoroughly. "All right," she said softly. "I'll show you what I mean." She let go of his shoulders and walked toward the oak dresser and pulled out the first drawer.

Stephen looked at the lacy red thong and matching corset she held out in her hands.

Okay...that was nothing abnormal.

He watched her drop them both to the floor, directly on top a pair of six inch, black stiletto heels that he had somehow failed to notice the entire time he had been standing there.

Nora made her way across the room in silence, reaching the side of the bed and the night stand, where she opened the top drawer and pulled out an assessment of vibrators, dildos, anal beads, nipple clamps, genital clamps, and paddles.

Stunned, Stephen stared at the random objects that she had lain out across the bed.

Still, nothing too explicit. He had engaged in a fair number of similar toys in his own personal, intimate relations.

Nora looked at him from over her shoulder, a sly smile separating her pink lips as she reached down to pull open the second drawer. Beside the assessment of toys, she lay down a collection of handcuffs, leather cuffs, tape, riding crops, blind folds, and rope.

Stephen took a grave step forward to examine the pile of sex objects and he immediately felt his cock twitch with excitement.

But once again they were nothing too unusual.

After staring at the pile for a long while, Stephen turned his curious gaze to Nora, who was looking at him with slanted, golden eyes that seemed to encourage the swelling of his erection. He leaned against the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. "What is this, Nora?" His voice raspy with anticipation. "What is all of this?"

She took a step closer. "I'm showing you the similar interests that Calvin and I have shared over the years. You said that you wanted to understand."

"Yes," he quickly agreed. "But none of this stuff is unexpected in a long-term, sexual relationship. A lot of men are willing to use, or at least try most of this stuff." He glanced back toward the bed, his eyes lingering on the anal beads and riding crop.

Shit.

If Nora kept this up, he wouldn't be leaving tonight without using one of these on her.

Her eyes slanted again, making the bulge in his pants expand. With a confident smirk, she took a step back, brushing her foot across the floor until she hooked the long handle of a flogger, and slowly dragged it out from under the bed.

Stephen looked down to regard the long fronds of soft suede with small beads at the end. It looked used, and kinky as hell. His eyes jolted to connect with hers again.

Nora was smiling now, a tentative flash of crimson fire burning softly in her eyes. She didn't allow him time to ponder the flogger, for she was soon walking past him and toward the door, purposely brushing his shoulder ever so slightly. Her hips rocked, even when hiding behind the small bath towel that barely covered her ass.

Stephen stared after her when she turned her back to him; he couldn't resist. The sinister thought of using that flogger across her tanned, smooth skin had all but made his cock burst through his jeans. He took a step closer, then another, all the while searing her flesh with a dark haze of rising heat that he no longer wanted to contain.

Nora looked at him from over her shoulder, another hint of a smile parting one corner of her pretty mouth that Stephen actually thought about kissing. But then his eyes were abruptly diverted to look at the door bondage jam that was wedged into between the door with ropes, cables, and chains.

Holy fuck...

He swallowed hard. His heart was pounding so hard he could literally dance to its rhythm. His hands curled into fists as he took another step closer. His breathing came in short and rapid heaves. Was he panting?

"Nora," his raspy, deep voice began to shake. "I didn't know...I mean, I didn't expect..." His words trailed on.

"No," she breathed quietly. "Of course you didn't. No one does."

Stephen looked at her and barely restrained from ripping the towel off her back. He was standing close now, close enough to hear her heart beating in perfect rhythm with his own, close enough to feel the heat in her eyes melting into a golden array of building lust, close enough to smell the sweet liquid of her arousal.

"So now what, Nora?" His voice husky. "What am I supposed to do with this information?"

She grinned at him behind loose strands of blonde silk that fell to frame her face. "You tell me, detective Marshall," she purred, her golden eyes sparkling with want. "After all, I did save your life. You owe me that much." One corner of her mouth lifted into a cunning smirk, and Stephen felt his jeans cramp around the hard bulge of his cock.

Without speaking, he took one long stride forward to pull her into his arms. His fingers welded tightly into the soft folds of her hair on either side of her face. His kissed her hard, forcing her to melt into him. Her body trembled with a startled jerk that sent her stumbling toward the wall. Her back hit hard, slamming against the door with an urgent force that Stephen delivered with full demand.

He growled deep in the back of his throat, his hands tightening in her hair as he felt the towel began to loosen between them. He bit her lower lip before pulling back to regard the dark shades of lust expanding in her eyes. "Is this what you like, Nora?" His voice was deep and wanting. "Do you like a man to control you? To use you? To hurt you?"

Nora breathed heavily from the force of his kiss, as if he had choked the air from her lungs. The peppermint scent of her breath lingered in the short distance between them, forcing Stephen to press her harder against the door and claim her mouth with another powerful kiss.

She managed to break free, her breathing short and rapid and her chest beating hard against his own. She stood there, trembling. "Stephen..." Her voice was barely a whisper. "I think you misunderstood me." Her whispered purr of seduction grabbed a hold of his attention, his senses, his entire being, drawling him in with an unknown, magical force that he wasn't about to resist.

"Then explain it to me, Nora," his deep voice thundered. He lowered one hand to grab a firm hold of the towel before he ripped it off her body. With an anxious thrust, he tossed it across the room, his eyes baring down at her full breasts hanging freely in front of him.

Her nipples were already hard, tightening into tiny round beads that made his hands twitch to feel them roll between his fingers. Her breasts looked firm and soft; the perfect size to fill his palms. Tanned, smooth skin covered her toned muscles and her arms looked strong and her stomach defined and narrow. Her waist was small, and her hips expanded ever so slightly to make any man groan with hunger.

Stephen took a small step back to admire her body. God, but she was beautiful naked. He would never tire of looking at her; he wanted to touch her, all of her. The slight flare of her hips beckoned him to move forward again, this time his eyes dwelling on the short patch of blonde hair covering her sex. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed into a long, narrow path starting at her clitoris that stopped four inches short of her navel. A nice, smooth path to trail his tongue across when he finally spread her legs on the damned bed.

"I don't like to be dominated; I like to dominate," she said while holding his hooded gaze.

Stephen moved forward to pin her against the door. "Oh really?" His hands lowered to cup her breasts, where he used his thumbs to message the plump mounds before rolling his fingers over the darker shade of pink. He took both of her nipples between his fingers, gently at first, and then upon noticing the desire growing in her features he pinched harder, relishing in her sweet moans as her breath caught in her throat. "I find that hard to believe."

He twisted harder, feeling her body jerk beneath him as he worked the tiny round beads to a hard point. He pulled at the delicate skin, flicking his index finger over the sensitive knots to arouse the first sensation of her longing pain.

"Please, Stephen," Nora moaned into his mouth. "Please do this for me."

Stephen looked into her eyes--so gold, so hopeful, so desperate and wanting. How could any man deny her?

"All right, doll face." His own eyes slanted with desire. "Get it out of your system." He released her before taking a step back. "Before I change my mind." A corner of his mouth split a part as he watched a darker shade of gold slowly consume her eyes.

There she stood, fully naked, aroused--beautiful, like nothing Stephen had experienced before. He had never played the submissive role, never allowed a woman to control him, hell; he hardly let a woman be on top. He was a man--a cop; dominating came natural for him.

But what the hell?

"Undress." Her voice changed; its was louder, more firm. She looked at him with wide eyes, both swimming with desire. She stood there, both hands resting on the wondrous swells of her hips.

Stephen reached to slide off his leather blazer. He slipped it over his broad shoulders and down the long length of his arms until it fell to the floor. He practically tore his shirt to shreds with eager hands that lifted the black fabric over his head in a matter of seconds. But when he reached the front button of his jeans, he halted at her firm voice.

"That's enough for now," she said in a low, dark voice that sounded anything but Nora. "Turn around."

With little hesitation, Stephen did as she willed him. He turned around to face the bed, his heart starting to beat faster upon not being able to see her.

"Walk forward," she commanded coolly.

Stephen dared to turn around, but choosing to appease the sexy woman behind him, he took several short strides until he was facing the foot of the bed, precisely in between two of the four posters that held up the swooping canopy of the bed.

Warm fingers were touching his back in a slow, long path down his spine. Stephen fought the urge to turn around, haul her into his arms, and throw her on the bed, but keeping his desire at bay, he stood there, allowing Nora to explore his body with lustful appreciation.

She kept touching him, moving her hands over the steep hills and low valleys of his back, shoulders, chest, and stomach. It was erotic; he had never had a woman touch him like this. And just when he was about to grab her wrists and pull her into his arms, Nora moved to stand behind him, where she lifted a dark piece of cloth to cover his eyes.

"Nora..." he started, his voice fidgety.

"Shh," she whispered, her mouth skimming across his shoulder, arousing goosebumps to lace his skin with inevitable chills. "Hold still."

Begrudgingly, he obeyed. He stood there unmoving, his breathing quickening by the second. He felt her move again, but this time he couldn't see her. He heard a shuffle of noises; first on his right side, then on his left.

Her fingers were gentle up and down his arms, the slight prick of her nails skimming across his flesh was both alarming and sensational. He didn't want it to stop. But he wasn't given much time to savor his excitement before Nora was was adding upward pressure to both his arms, conveying him to stretch them toward both posters at the foot of the bed.

Her mouth was back, planting a series of kisses on his shoulders from one side to the other in a slow, dramatic trail. "I'm going to bind you, Stephen." Her voice was a combination of both virgin and seductress. "I want you helpless."

Stephen was in no position to negotiate. Before he knew what has happening, both of his arms were stretched out spread eagle, both wrists bound tightly by some form of restriction that felt more like rope. He clenched his hands into fists, testing his strength, but finding both arms tied useless to the poles.

Damn...

He had never felt this helpless, this vulnerable--this aroused.

"Nora?" he spoke low once she was no longer touching him. "What are you going to do?"