“I called him a cab,” Tarka said. “He was whining about needing to get home. As for me, I have to go sleep and sober up before my flight tomorrow night.”
“And I need to get home to my wife. It’s amazing how eager a man is to get home to bed when his sweet little wife is there waiting for him,” Konstantin bragged, smiling like a lovestruck teenager.
Tak and Arabella both gagged theatrically.
They shot the shit and joked around until their rides came, and then they were gone, leaving Grant and Arabella alone on the street.
He wondered if she’d been planning on this situation the way he had, or if the lamb found herself unexpectedly staring at the wolf.
Chapter Three
The hungry look on Grant’s face was marginally terrifying, but she was a big girl and she knew this man. No matter how nefarious his thoughts might be, she was perfectly safe until she agreed to anything evil he might have in mind.
Oh, and she was in the mood to agree.
Too bad neither of them was sober.
“We managed not to rip each other’s throats out for a whole evening,” she pointed out. “I call that a win.”
“I wasn’t about to ruin Will’s night.”
She smiled at him hesitantly, not sure which Grant she was talking to. Sometimes they were buddies again, but other times they wanted to kill each other. It didn’t take much to set him off, and she was feeling emotional about everything tonight.
Will’s upcoming wedding was making her nostalgic, but also a bit sad. It was the end of an era—the final nail in their friendship’s coffin. Sleeping with Grant had been the other one. She didn’t begrudge Will the happiness he’d found with Juliet—she was just feeling left behind, even though she still saw the brothers a few times a week. It wasn’t the same as it used to be. Obviously, it couldn’t be, but the brothers had left an Ellis-sized void in her life.
Between work and the club she was busy enough, but it wasn’t quite the same as having people she was close to, that she hung out with all the time. She was surrounded by people all day, every day, until she got home. Although the brothers had never lived with her, they’d spent so much time together for the past few years they might as well have been roomies.
“That was a lot different than I anticipated,” she admitted. “I’m not sure how bachelor parties usually go though. I’ve only ever seen them in movies, and they usually involve strippers, alcohol poisoning, and temporary amnesia.”
“The amnesia is strictly optional. I’ve only been to one where there were strippers. It’s amazing how strippers lose their appeal when you run a club like ours. We see all sorts of half-naked women in our line of work, and you don’t have to pay them to be interested. Besides, it’s hard to be interested in sex workers when you used to be one.”
They started to walk in the direction of the club. It felt like Grant was being careful not to look at her. Frustrated, she looped her arm through his, hoping to revive the feeling of closeness they used to share. Back in the day, casually touching him would have been no big deal, and had been common, but now even taking his arm felt like trespassing. It wasn’t fair.
“Well, at least we got the drunk part right. I haven’t seen him drink anything in ages.”
Grant grimaced. “The evening was okay, but it was hardly a bachelor party. I mean, maybe it would have been a decent bachelor party if Will was an octogenarian. I’ll have to remember not to start a party planner business.”
She nudged his arm with her shoulder. “It was perfect for what Will’s life is like now. He’s not the kind of guy who ever liked wild parties anyway—and that was even before Beau came along. I’m sure it’s hard to cut loose when you know people are depending on you.”
“Yeah, that’s always been Will’s life, I guess. I just feel like I should have made some sort of grand gesture, like we should have organized a trip to a resort or something.”
“And have to spend the whole time hiding who we are? Going on vacations like that always makes me uncomfortable,” she said, hopping over a puddle then reclaiming his elbow. “Hanging out in vanilla spaces where you have to watch what you say and what you do isn’t fun or relaxing.” She sighed. “I live so much of my life out. I can’t imagine looking forward to a vacation where I actually have to be more guarded than I am in my real life.”
Grant grinned down at her. Even with his head tilted downward she would have to stand on her toes to kiss him—not that she should be thinking about kissing him, even though his lips looked like they were in dire need of at least one. His square jaw was covered in a couple of days’ worth of stubble, which she always liked. It was even better when he let his beard grow. Although it hid his handsome face, his beard was such a lovely shade of red. Facial hair always made him look less civilized, too, which she had to admit she approved of.
The night was cool and silent other than the rumble of distant traffic on the main road and the occasional passing car. The sky hung heavy above them, clouds pressing down so close that tendrils of fog skittered along the sidewalk and sometimes curled like tentacles around their feet. The air was thick and electric, but the shiver she couldn’t suppress had more to do with her proximity to Grant than it did to actually being cold. The sips of alcohol she’d stolen from Konstantin’s flask still kept her warm. She was glad they’d decided not to go with beer from Evil Pixie, or she’d have spent most of the night taking trips to the ladies’ room.
It was hard to tell if the silence was as sexually charged for Grant as it was for her. It wasn’t comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, not considering the desire coiled deep in the pit of her stomach. They were alone, her arm linked through his, and they were drunk. She wanted to use it as an excuse to make a move on him but he’d see right through that.
A first, fat drop of rain plopped right on the end of her nose, and she wiped it away just as the next twelve hit her face simultaneously.
“You and your walking fetish,” Grant growled.
“You didn’t have to come with me. I’m a big girl. I can walk off leash.”
“You think you’re safe because you dress like a boy, but even boys can get themselves hurt if they’re alone in a deserted part of town like this.”
The rain was falling in earnest now, soaking into her T-shirt and the thighs of her jeans.
“Has anyone ever told you that overprotectiveness is irritating?”
“Most submissives don’t mind having someone fuss over them.”
“Fussing is one thing. I may be three apples high, but I’m not a child. I don’t need a Dominant babysitting me. If you didn’t want to come you should have jumped in a cab with someone. I’m sure Tarka could’ve dropped you off. He has to go past the club to get to his place anyway.”
“Been over there a lot have you?” he asked, his voice suddenly chill.
“I haven’t been there at all, not that it’s any of your business.”
“You should stay away from that guy.”
“That guy? That guy is one of our best friends. Why on earth should I stay away from Tak? Sure, he whores around like we do, but he’s not one to play mind games that aren’t consensual, and he’s not one to make promises he doesn’t intend to keep—and he won’t throw away a perfectly good friendship because of a one-night stand!”
Anger surged, not doused by the cold rain that was now plastering her hair to her head and streaming in cold rivulets down the back of her neck. They stopped walking and glared at each other, any warm feelings she’d had from the night gone in the blaze of anger that burned through her. There had to be steam coming off her.
Grant looked just as pissed, his beautiful face grim, his brows lowered dangerously. They’d stopped under a streetlamp and it cast a shadow across his face, lending him a sinister, sadistic air.
He opened his mouth and snapped it closed hard enough that she heard his teeth click.
“Boohoo. I fucked you and then wouldn’t date you,” she snarled at him. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but just because you stick your dick in someone a few times doesn’t mean you own them.”
His head jerked back as though she’d slapped him, then he turned and stomped down the street. There was a sound like a roar of an enraged animal and then he strode back toward her. She fell back a step and then two. The streetlight completely illuminated the savage expression on his face. Adrenaline shot through her and she turned and ran away from him, half staggering as she rounded a corner and splashed through a puddle into an alleyway. She could hear him behind her—close, so close, his breathing angry and heavy.
“Where the fuck are you going?” he shouted after her.
She peered through the rain. The alley was a dead end, of course. She turned and bared her teeth at him, feeling like a cornered beast.
“You’re a jerkwad, you know that?”
“Oh, I’m the jerkwad?” There seemed to be more words crowding to get out of him, but he bit off them off.
“I stuck to our agreement. You’re the one who had to go and make things complicated. I wish it had never happened. I wish I could go back to that night and tell you not to come over.”
He blinked at her then looked away, his mouth pressed flat.
“I had no idea that once I stepped over the line there’d be no going back!” she yelled, embarrassed that she couldn’t calm down. “I didn’t know that one impulsive decision would ruin my life. It’s not like I decided to try crack or something. It’s not like either of us were the relationship type. I had no idea . . .”
“Yeah, well, I had no idea either,” he growled back. “We were so close for so long it hadn’t occurred to me that I wasn’t good enough for you to date.”
“It’s not like that!”
“We’ve been there for each other through so much shit, Arabella. It was easier being friends with you when you were just the mouthy little tomboy I hung out with. Now I can’t look at you and think innocent thoughts. I can’t forget the feel of you under my hands, kneeling for me. I can’t forget the way your eyes deepen when you hit subspace. I can’t forget how making you submit made me feel.”
She felt drugged by his words. Stupid Dominants and their stupid . . . speaking abilities! She wanted to hit him for making her so weak.
“Stop trying to make me feel bad! I already feel like shit for not giving you what you want, but I don’t think you want to collar me if I’m letting you do it out of sisterly affection.”
“You’re going to tell me that the feelings you have for me are sisterly? I’m calling bullshit.” He crowded her, walking her backward until her back hit a wall.
Fuck.
He lowered his head and water from his hair dripped onto her face. “Bull. Shit.”
The words smelled of whiskey and Grant, and smacked of challenge.
“What you want me to say? That I want you? I think I’ve made that pretty clear. The part I don’t want is the collar, and that’s apparently nonnegotiable as far as you’re concerned. I’d have no problem playing with you whenever the mood struck us, but you’re an immature little twat and I don’t trust you to share.”
“I don’t want an open relationship.”
“And I don’t want a relationship at all.”
“That doesn’t work for me.”
“What you’re offering doesn’t work for me.”
He exhaled in frustration, his breath caressing her cheek. Against this wall of the alley, very little light reached them. They were both soaked.
“Fine,” he said quietly.
The electric charge between them sent trails of goose bumps along her skin.
“Thank you for understanding, doorknob,” she whispered back. Unable to stop herself, she stood on tiptoe to graze her lips over his. His tongue flicked out and caught her bottom lip in a sensual swipe.
Evil man. She was barely holding it together, between being drunk and her arousal, and he was making her attempt to keep things platonic very, very difficult.
She sucked in a breath then swiped the rain out of her eyes. Her mascara had to be running down her face but she was glad that in this weather he probably couldn’t tell she was crying.
She hadn’t been lying when she’d said sleeping with him had ruined her life.
Her kiss had frozen him in place and his gaze had gone from angry back to voracious.
“Don’t kiss me unless you mean it, Arabella.” Suddenly, this entire situation seemed ridiculous. They were standing around in the pouring rain arguing about something they’d never sort out, as if they were in high school or maybe some dumb movie.
“Don’t kiss you unless I mean it?” She snorted. “What does that even mean? I don’t think I’ve ever kissed you accidentally.” He was glaring, which only made her giggle harder.
“You’re the most irritating woman I’ve ever met.”
“Big words from a man whose boner is digging into my stomach.”
“You’re drunk.”
“And yet I’m not wrong. Does arguing with me turn you on, Master Grant?”
He made a face at her as though she was delusional, and before she could tell her drunk brain to behave she reached between them and grabbed his hard cock through the damp denim of his jeans. He hissed in a breath.
“I may be a little drunk but I know what to do with this.” She squeezed his dick harder.
His mouth crashed down on hers, hard enough to bruise, mashing her lips against her teeth, but his ferocity matched her own. She moaned into his mouth, or he moaned into hers—either way their mouths and tongues tangled together and then she was fumbling for the button of his jeans, then fighting the zipper to free him.
Bad.
She shouldn’t be doing this, but the way her hand couldn’t wrap all the way around his cock had been something she’d been thinking of ever since the last time. Fuck, she wanted him. His piercing bumped against her palm, and she caressed it reverently.
“This is a bad idea,” he groaned against her mouth. His shudder of pleasure as she stroked his cock made it impossible for her to choose to stop.
“So tell me no. Oh wait, you’re a man.”
“I’ve said no to plenty of women.”
“I’d hate for you to feel like I was just using you.”
His breathing was so harsh she wondered how long he’d last. Hell, considering how hot she was for him, she probably wouldn’t last past his first thrust.
“Condom?” she asked, voice so rough she sounded odd to her own ears. No one did this to her except him—made her awkward and giddy, like she was young and inexperienced all over again. Hell, who else would she even consider fucking in some random alley? She didn’t even need kink right now, she just wanted him to shove her against the wall and impale her on his glorious cock.
“Why on earth would I have a condom? I was just at the most boring bachelor party in the history of bachelor parties. I wasn’t planning on getting laid.”
“Damn it.” Frustrated, she slid her other hand down into his jeans, ignoring the scrape of wet denim along the back of her hand as she cupped his balls. He hissed in a breath but didn’t offer further objection as she adjusted her grip on his cock, not ready to stop touching him.
“Stop,” he growled almost as soon as she stroked her hand over him once.
Reluctantly, she let go.
He stood there, panting, not tucking himself back into his jeans, just staring at her like he wanted to eat her. She licked the hollow of his throat then slid down his body, sinking to her knees on the asphalt. A puddle seeped into the knees of her jeans, and she realized that kneeling brought her face level with his thighs, his cock bobbing too high up to get into her mouth. She giggled, the alcohol making the awkward moment
feel hilarious rather than humiliating.
“What are you doing?” he rasped.
She looked up at him, his body shielding her from the worst of the rain. “I was planning to give you a blow job, but I think I’d need a blowhole on top of my head to make this work.”
His groan made her hot and even more desperate to get him into her mouth.
“I—” Whatever he was going to say stalled when she rose into a squat. His cock pulsed and twitched, and she rose slightly higher, propping her back against the wall to hold herself steady, her mouth and the head of his dick only an inch apart.
“You were saying?” she asked, knowing the breath from her question had drifted over the head of his cock when it jerked violently upward then came down, bumping her lower lip.
“I shouldn’t let you do this.”
“I’m not doing anything other than resting against this wall. You told me to stop, and I won’t do anything else without you asking me. Nicely.”
“Asking you nicely?” His voice was cold and dangerous. It was hard not to play with fire when the flames were so pretty. “Fuck. I don’t know what to do. You’re not my submissive. I can’t even punish you for being bratty. I don’t want to encourage you to use me for sex.”
She chuckled darkly at his lie. “Yeah, right. You don’t want sex from me? Tell that to your big ugly dick.” Okay, it wasn’t ugly at all, but the man was full of himself as it was. The last thing he needed was a compliment on his junk.
“That’s not all I want from you.”
“So is that a no?”
He paused for a long moment, then grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet. “You are an evil, evil bitch, Arabella.”
Rather than being offended, she laughed. His expression was so conflicted that she couldn’t help but find it funny.
“I may be an evil bitch, but I could be sucking your dick right now.”
He snarled something nasty, and dug his hand into her sodden hair, as though he was considering pushing her down and using her mouth, but then, sadly, he let go again.
All's Fair in Love and Mastery Page 4