Read A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You) for Free Online

past week. Work had been hellish. The tension between them had been so palpable she was sure everyone around them could feel it. She couldn’t remember the last night she’d had restful sleep. Worse than that, she hadn’t drawn anything in days. She’d been too scattered, her emotions all over the place. She was pathetic—a mess over a man who wanted to fuck her and beat her and willing to manipulate her to do it.
    He’d called her that afternoon and asked her to have dinner with him at his home. She’d been too nervous, too exhilarated to say no. She still wasn’t a hundred percent sure she wanted to do this arrangement thing, or whatever it was. So far, he didn’t have a stellar track record. He had apologized, and that counted for something. If he’d been an ass about harassing her, she wouldn’t have even considered going to his house, let alone entering a D/s relationship with him.
    She needed to think this through. He was her boss. Getting involved with him was risky. Donovan’s was like a second home to her and what he was proposing could fuck that up. But no matter how much she wavered and agonized over it, she knew ultimately she would say yes. She wanted to learn what was waiting for her in the deep end. Who better to show her than the man she’d been fantasizing about?
    She got out of the car and walked up the two flights of stairs to her mother’s place on the second floor. She hardly ever stopped over this early, but she couldn’t bring herself to forgo it. Brian had asked her over for dinner. She had no idea what else he had in mind or how long she’d be there.
    She steeled herself as she stepped into her mom’s musty condo. Dressed as she was, she knew there would be questions. She could have avoided this conversation altogether and gone straight to Brian’s house, but if something had happened to her mom while she was off playing kinky games, she’d never forgive herself. Realistically, she knew these little visits couldn’t prevent anything bad from happening. Even still, she felt as though she were doing something by checking on her.
    She set the takeout food she’d brought on the counter and frowned at the large number of prescription bottles lined up by the sink. Quietly, she checked the recently filled bottle of oxycodone. Not only was it half empty, but the prescribing doctor was one she wasn’t familiar with. Gen closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to quell the sense of dread that bubbled in her stomach like battery acid. Takeout had definitely been a good idea. Any excuse she could give her mother to not use the stove was a damn good one.
    “Mom?” Gen called as she walked into the small, dingy living room and wrinkled her nose. Cigarette smoke hung in the living room as dense as fog. “You should open a window or something.”
    Emily Hawthorn was parked in her favorite recliner. Stacks of worn gothic mystery novels surrounded her as if they were condemned buildings, teetering and ready to fall over. The dark shadows under her puffy eyes made her look older than her fifty-two years. Her bleached hair was twisted into a tight knot at the base of her skull, gray beginning to show at the roots.
    Gen remembered when her mom had been vibrant and happy, full of smiles and laughter. That seemed like a lifetime ago. It was sad to miss someone who was physically right in front of you. But this woman, this pitiful, medicated husk, was not the same woman who had read her Alice in Wonderland every night, handmade her Halloween costumes and sang her Edelweiss when she couldn’t sleep. If Dad hadn’t died, would she still be that person?
    No, I can’t go there.
    “Genny girl, what have you done to your hair?” A cigarette dangled between her fingers and a book was cleaved open on her knee.
    Gen tucked a red strand behind her ear. “Dyed it. I thought that was pretty obvious.”
    After Brian had invited her to dinner, she’d dyed it a garish, cherry red. He was probably going to