Page 40 of Dark Holiday

According to her list, she’s not afraid of things getting rough, so maybe this is just what I need after all. I work in near silence, the sound of her soft snores drowning out the slight hiss of the ropes as I maneuver them around her ankles. Next, I ease her arms around her back, moving in minute increments timed to match her breaths so as to not wake her.

The ropes slide over her hands, and I cinch them tight. Her body is almost in a hogtie position, but I won’t tighten her ankles up to her wrists until I’m ready for her to wake up. Ms. Hoo’s hands curl up, showing off her fancy manicure. For a moment, the shade of red looks mysteriously familiar, an identical match to Cindy’s, but it can’t be.

There’s no way she’d be ready for a playdate like this. Hell, the little mouse that begged me to stop even before I brought out anything truly kinky wouldn’t have put down something like kidnapping. She just isn’t ready. The urge to leave and track Cindy down, to make sure she’s at home, safe, and away from the types of men here at this retreat beats at the back of my brain.

I can’t give in, though. I put that part of my past behind me. To go back now would mean I’d never be free of her. I know my inclinations; I’d tear myself down, change myself into a man I’m not just to have her want me, accept me, love me.

For my sanity, I can’t let myself do that. So I become some vanilla, boring man, satisfied with just being “Daniel” eventually, the real me will come crawling back to the surface. Then what would we do? If Cindy can’t handle me as I am, then there’s no hope for us, and I have to be okay with the decision to move on.

I stare down at the blood-red of her nails, so dark and sinister against the silver dress she’s wearing. I thought she was a ghost from my past, but here she is in the form of a stranger taunting me. Though all signs point away from Cindy, she’s here, even if it’s just in my head.

Still…. Ice drips down into my gut as I stare down at the woman in front of me. The curves are right, the hair is right, the nails are right. Motherfuckers. I swear to God if Ryan and Brittany set this up, they will never hear the end of it from me. I hold my breath as I reach for the mask. She didn’t care if she wore one or not, right? Then she shouldn’t care if I take it off.

I already know the answer deep in my gut, but I still hope it’s not her. The clock ticking in the room is the only sound as I ease the mask back. The clouds part again as if by some weird form of kismet, allowing a shaft of moonlight into the room, illuminating Ms. Hoo’s face. Only, it’s not some illusive Ms. Hoo. The woman bound beneath me is Cindy herself. Elation and rage war within me as I watch her sleep, oblivious to the inner turmoil she’s putting me through.

Fucking hell.

I should always go with my gut; it’s rarely wrong. Deep down, I knew it was her, but I let my denial do the talking. I can’t just leave her here, that would put her at risk, but I don’t want to play with her either. She’s not earned that right. Not after everything she’s done and everything she’s put me through.

How in the hell am I not good enough to be her Daddy, but these assholes are good enough to play with? It doesn’t matter that I’m one of those assholes. She didn’t know I was here. There’s no way. Even if Ryan and Brittany are playing matchmakers, they’ve been waltzing around acting like we didn’t know each other.

I’m pretty sure she would have left if she knew Grumpy Claus was actually her worst nightmare come to life. I toss her mask to the side; she won’t be needing it. It will be just one more way for her to hide from me, and that I cannot allow.

Enough is enough. Tonight, I’ll get my answers, and by God, I’ll get my closure. Securing my mask so she won’t know it’s me, I yank on the middle rope, tightening her wrists and ankles together in the perfect hogtie. Her eyes pop open, wide as adrenaline surges through her body. I can feel it flowing through her as she bucks and strains, but my bonds are absolute. She will not get away from me this time.

CHAPTER 23

Cynthia

The stranger looms over me, fire blazing from his eyes, his lips set in a decidedly angry smirk. The green, fuzzy monstrosity only covers half his face, leaving those dangerous lips and beard free to my gaze. They look so very angry, so much like Daniel. But there’s no way it can be him….

My heart flutters as he turns me this way and that, checking the ropes before hauling me up into his arms. I’m practically immobile, but I still fight anyway. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Right?

I fully expect Mr. Grumpy to get mad at me from all the fussing I’m doing, but he doesn't show any signs of displeasure other than the permanent scowl etched onto his face. In fact, he carries me with such care that my throat clogs up with unshed emotion. The fighting I’m doing is just a token resistance, but underneath it is the desperate need to fight against myself and my foolish decisions.

We get into a room that’s set up for this diabolical scheme. The beautiful tree alit with hundreds of tiny lights is overshadowed by the row of toys and implements all laid out just for me. Should I be flattered or scared? I don’t even get a chance to decide when he drops me on the floor, leaving me to either stare at the ornate rug or turn to look at the warm fireplace, cozy and cheerful despite the actions about to take place.

“So, it looks like I caught a brat waiting up for Santa. Too bad he’s not going to come and rescue you. Trust me. Once I’m done with you, you’ll be wishing for lumps of coal instead.”

I listen to the timber of his voice. Though it’s obvious he’s trying to disguise it, there’s still a bit that’s just so familiar. “Daniel?” The man pauses, and all sounds of rustling stop. “Please. If it’s you, just say so.” Please be him. Please be him. I’ll call him Daddy, Sir, what-the-fuck-ever, just please be him.

I thought I wanted this. I thought I wanted to submit to some unknown man, to give him everything I promised Daniel, but now that I’m faced with the consequences of my actions, deep down, I’m terrified. Will he hurt me? Will he stop if I ask him to? Daniel stopped. He did everything I asked him to do. With this stranger, it’s all an unknown.

“There is no Daniel here, only Grumpy Claus. And you’ve been such a naughty little girl, haven’t you?”

The words are so familiar, but now that I’m fully awake, I realize it’s not him. It can’t be. Daniel is at a retreat. There’s no way he’d be here with all these other kinky people. Ryan and Brittany would have told me. Hysteria rises up, gagging me as I lay there, bound, helpless. “I can’t do this. Please. I can’t.”

The stranger kneels down next to me and runs his hands down my back. “Settle, little girl. You can, and you will do this. I won’t harm you. Ever. Just submit and let me do what I do best. Can you do that for me?”

Can I?

My heart thumps painfully in my chest as he makes soothing noises, his hands never leaving my body. Maybe if I keep my eyes closed, I can pretend it’s Daniel. This man seems so kind, so caring. Why couldn’t that be him? I nod, giving him my consent.

“I need to hear your words.”

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, the last half of that phrase catching in my throat. Daniel’s the only man I’ve ever said that to, and the part of me that can’t get him out of my heart and soul feels like this is a betrayal.

As if I said the magic words, Grumpy goes into action. The soft silk of the blindfold as he wraps it around my head feels like a delicate kiss against my skin. “You’re far too frightened and tense for this to be pleasurable,” he grumbles, skimming his finger against my open lips. “I want you to be uneasy, off-balanced, but never terrified.”