PASSION AGGRESSIVE
A PHAZE FETISH HEATSHEET BY
EMERY SANBORNE AND PHILIPPA GREY-GEROU
Phaze 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
eBook ISBN 1-59426-905-X Passion Aggressive © 2006 by Emery Sanborne and Philippa GreyGerou
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Cover art © 2006 by Kathryn Lively
Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.
www.Phaze.com
Also by Philippa Grey-Gerou
The Black River
"I came to get my things." Sebastian pushed past Laura when she answered her door, obviously startling her. With good reason. He hadn't come by since she'd kicked him out nearly six weeks before, his only crime admitting his feelings to her in the heat of passion. Three little words had done so much damage.
She crossed her arms in irritation, her hazel eyes tracking his every move. "You could have called," she snapped. "I might have been out. Or with someone."
She looked gorgeous, even with her aggressive stance and glowering expression. Hell, those things made her even more attractive to him, twisted bastard that he was. He loved her bitchy, her strength and assertiveness. It was a challenge and a turn on all at once.
"Now why would I do that and give you the chance to hang up on me again?" he shot back, pulling a jacket out of the coat closet and checking for more. "And if you had company, you'd hardly have answered the door, would you?" He draped the coat over the stair rail. "What was so important that you had to do this right now?" "It's been six weeks." Sebastian leaned back against the newel post. "If you haven't let me back in your exalted presence by now, I presumed you were serious for a change. Time for me to move on, Laura."
It had been a long six weeks, and seeing him again just reminded Laura of how attractive he was. Which only reawakened her anger.
The arousal shouldn't have surprised her. There had been a fiery chemistry between the two of them since they had first met at an art dealers' association function three years earlier. Tall and lean, dark hair and eyes complemented by the elegance of his casual attire, he had immediately drawn her attention and made her forget all about the revival of pre-Colombian art or whatever dry topic the evening's speaker had prepared. Still recovering from her messy divorce, she saw in Sebastian everything Hank lacked: education, suavity, and sexuality with that luscious Cambridge accent that made her knees weak. They had spent an hour over drinks getting acquainted, then the rest of the night in a hotel room, finding out about each other in ways that had left Laura sweat-sheened and exhausted.
He had surprised her when he tracked her down and called her the next day.
But it wasn't an easy relationship. They fought as fiercely as they fucked, their two personalities constantly at odds. They had breaks, some longer than others, but when they got back together, the sex was even better than the first time. Until he made his fateful confession and she'd kicked him out. To cover the quick pang his words invoked, she snorted, "As though
anyone else would have you." "In a heartbeat," he smirked. "And they'd treat me a damned sight
better than you ever did." She slapped him. He laughed as the sting of her slap suffused his skin. "I'm sorry,
Laura, was that a little too close to home for comfort?" Sebastian caught her wrist as she moved to slap him again. "Once
was enough. Twice would just be overkill, my dear." "You're a son of a bitch, Sebastian Porter," Laura spat, trying to
wrench her wrist free of his grip. "Let me go." It was too good an opportunity to pass up, and the arousal her violence awoke only encouraged him. "Let you go?" he chuckled richly as he twisted her arm up behind her, pulling her close. "I think I've let you go too many times already, Laura."
He had intended this to be a quick trip to retrieve a few essentials before cutting ties with Laura Whitaker for good. He should have known better. Three years of a relationship that ran from very hot to down right arctic should have taught him that staying away was the only way to guarantee she wouldn't draw him right back in.
But he didn't want to stay away. And while Laura's mind might remain closed, her body responded to his presence. Perhaps things weren't finished yet. If he could just convince her of that.
His grip was like iron, shooting a twinge of pain through her shoulder as he trapped her against him. She cursed herself as the feel of his long, lean torso set off all too familiar responses conditioned into her over three years of intimacy. Fighting to keep him from seeing it, she spat, "You don't really think you can hold me, do you?"
"I don't think I can, Laura. I know I can." His grin told her that he enjoyed the feel of her pressed close. "Despite all your protestations, it's comforting, I suppose, to see that I can still get under your skin."
"You aren't under my skin." She struggled against his hold, ignoring the part of her brain that suggested she did it to feel more of him against her. "You're just in my way."
"Am I really? Then why can you never get rid of me? You're a determined woman, Laura. You'd find a means to keep me away if you really wanted to." He dipped his head down, scenting along her neck, savoring the heady mixture of the gallery, Earl Grey, and the faint, fresh scent of her exotic perfume. God, but she smelled like salvation and damnation. He had missed it. "I think the thing I admire most about you, my dear, is the ability you have to delude yourself. This illusion of power you believe you have, it's just that, an illusion. You only have power over those who choose to let you have it. And I'll admit I let you run fairly roughshod over me, but I can always take the power back. That is the reason why you can't get rid of me or forget about me when you try. I'm the only one, in the end, man enough to call you on it. Haven't you ever wondered why I've lasted when the others haven't?"
Threading his fingers through her ashen hair, he jerked her head sharply back, forcing her to look at him when he spoke next, hoping to get through to her. "You wouldn't know how to handle it if you allowed yourself to really be a man's be all and end all. Just you. Just him. No others. But you don't want that. It terrifies you. Because it means, ultimately, that you can get hurt, and there isn't a thing you can do to change it."
She gasped gratifyingly at his rough handling, but he wasn't surprised that she refused to give him more than that. "Be all and end all?" she sneered. "You've got to be kidding! What man has ever made me his be all and end all? Certainly not you!"
Sebastian pivoted, pinning Laura between himself and the wall. He reveled in the renewed pressure of her soft stomach against his hardening cock. What she did to him. Her tongue cut him to ribbons, and yet there wasn't a greater turn on to be found. There was, perhaps, something wrong with that, but he didn't much care.
Laura opened her mouth to reply, and he dove in, capturing her mouth and cutting off the sharp retort she likely had at the ready. He was sick of talking.
His mouth was hot and hard and demanding, making her whimper at the force of it. He gave her no choice whether she would open to him or not as his chin forced hers down and his tongue invaded, his body crushing her against the wall, his erection obvious against her belly.
He paused his assault for a moment. "Have you thought a
t all, Laura, about how it will be without me at your beck and call? I already know how to scratch those vicious little itches of yours. Until you train up my replacement, things are going to be pretty inconvenient for you."
"Inconvenient?" she forced out between his renewed assaults. "You think you've been convenient? You really are deluded, aren't you?" He silenced her again angrily, but this time she ripped her head away. "And I threw you out because I was tired of you lying to me," she spat, glaring up at him. "I've been just as much of a convenience to you as you think you were to me. I wasn't going to sit back while you tried to pretend we were something we weren't, to get some kind of control over me by playing on my emotions. And you wonder why I could never trust you, could never give you a chance?"
"It would make it easier for you, wouldn't it, to believe that. Believe that I didn't mean it when I said I loved you. But I did. I do." He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him."And why would I need to play on your emotions to control you when there are so many other, far more pleasurable ways for both of us? I don't need to play your emotions when I can play your body." To emphasize his point, Sebastian trailed his hand down from her chin, grazing her breasts and moving to tease lightly along her hip before moving back to rest meaningfully on her ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh and drawing her tighter against him.
"I don't know if you've realized it, but every time we have one of our little breaks it's because I get too close to you. You let me in too far and you shut down, shut me out." He sneered and dropped his voice dangerously low before adding, "Not this time."
Again he claimed her mouth, not letting up as he pressed in, sought deeper until he was forced to break away.
She glared at him, her labored breathing bringing their chests together again and again. "What's that supposed to mean, not this time?" "Meaning not this time. I'm done letting you push me away, Laura." Taking possession of her mouth once more, he pulled her up into his arms and made his way toward the stairs, careful to keep her struggles from upsetting them. He kicked open her bedroom door. "By the time I'm through with you, my dear, you will believe I mean
every word I say." Laura fought him like a wildcat, but he had too firm a hold on her. "Damn it, Sebastian, let me go!" She bucked and tried to knee him in the groin. His reflexes were too quick as he captured her leg between his taut thighs, trapping her further. "There's nothing you can do that will ever make me trust you."
"I've never asked you to trust me, Laura. How can I when you don't even trust yourself?" She could tell he enjoyed her writhing, her trapped leg just barely rubbing against his growing erection. He continued. "I just want you to know and accept that when I say I love you, I mean it. Every word. No games."
"Fuck you, Sebastian!" She tried to punch him, but only succeeded in landing girlish blows against his chest. Desperation rose up in her. "You wouldn't know love if it bit you on the ass. Now put me down!"
It was impossible not to smile at her words. He suspected his amusement would only further serve to piss her off. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
He did need to put her down at some point, even though it ran the risk of her finding some way out of his hold. But if he didn't put her down... well, things would be at a frustrating impasse. Inspiration finally struck when his eyes lighted upon her nightstand. It wasn't easy with her struggles, but finally he was able to maneuver them close enough to reach down and find the handcuffs hidden inside. He set her down and managed to get a cuff latched around her left wrist before she steadied enough to fight him. He caught her right as she swung at him, effectively linking both hands together by a sturdy steel chain.
"Now what am I to do with you?" he said, amusement coloring his voice as he dodged a few well-placed kicks. A bit of metal on the top of the bedroom door caught his eye. Trapping her tight against him once more, he walked them close enough to shut the door, revealing a hopefully sturdy over-the-door clothes hanger. With a bit of luck he got her arms up and the chain linked over the top. He appreciated the advantage of its height, which forced her onto the balls of her feet and denied her any leverage to free herself. It didn't have to hold long, just long enough to allow him to catch his breath and determine his next course of action.
Precariously balanced on her toes, at first she could only stare at him in shock as he studied her thoughtfully. It wasn't until he turned and started rummaging through her drawers that she began cursing at him, twisting against the chains holding her and trying to bend the hanger down to free herself.
"Sebastian Porter, you gutless son of a bitch, you let me down! I swear to God, when I get my hands on you..."
She froze when he turned, a pair of scissors in his hand. Her heart pounded as she asked in a lower voice, "Sebastian, what are you going to do with those?"
He grinned, closing the distance between them as he opened and closed the scissors, testing the feel and weight of them. He ran the tip of the shears lightly along the collar of her fine blouse, down along the buttons. "And spoil the surprise? Really, Laura, where would the fun be in that?"
Then, pulling the hem of her shirt out of her pants with his left hand, he opened the scissors in his right and ran a clean line from the hem, up the shirt, and detouring up her right arm until the material fell away. He made quick work of the other side and the last remaining button on her collar, pushing the ruined garment away. Not once during the entire process did she speak. For the first time in the years he had known her, she looked completely and utterly shocked. Just the effect he was going for.
She couldn't breathe. The cold metal skated along her skin, leaving tracks of gooseflesh in its wake as he methodically and wordlessly cut her hundred and seventy-five dollar designer blouse off her body, the scraps fluttering to the floor around her.
He paused with the blades around her left bra strap, his eyes caressing the fine material. "It really is a shame to destroy something so lovely, isn't it?" he sighed dramatically, snipping the strap.
The glint in his eye and his melodramatic sigh frightened her more than the shears. He cut first one strap and then the other before sliding the open jaw up between her breasts, stroking the blade back and forth as though to warm it before he closed them with a sharp snick. The elastic gave way and her breasts tumbled out, bared for his inspection. She fought back a whimper when he ran the cold flat over her bare nipple, but she couldn't prevent it from instantly tightening into an almost painful knot.
"What..." She fought for breath as he slipped the scissors into the waistband of her trousers. "What are you going to do?"
Sebastian just smirked in response to her repeated query and brought the blades together to make the first cut in her slacks. And the next. And the next. He eased his left hand behind her, holding onto the waistband as he worked along the center seam, careful as he worked between her legs. The upper blade glided against her underwear and lightly nudged her clit, making her gasp. He moved on, following the curve of her ass until the blades closed with a satisfying snick on the other side of the waistband. The pants parted and slid down her legs, pooling around her feet. She was now clad in nothing but a tiny pair of ivory satin panties edged with lace. Her stomach drew back as he brought the scissors up to tease along the top elastic band. He wished he had thought of doing this sooner. Her reaction was priceless.
"I don't think I have ever seen you so uncertain," he said as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss just below her navel. In the next moment, he closed the scissors on the thin strip of material over one hip and then moved quickly to the other. She now stood, or hung more appropriately, completely and utterly naked. Sebastian tossed the scissors aside as he knelt before her and looked up at her wide, staring eyes. Finally, he answered her question. "I am going to drive you to the brink again and again and again, until you're mad with the desire, the need, to come. And you will listen and believe me when I tell you that I do love you."
She was too vulnerable, naked in more ways than one. She tried to pull away, on
ly to be stopped by the cold surface of the door. "Don't," she begged softly. "Sebastian, please don't do this."
"Don't? Don't what, Laura?" He ran his hands down from her hips to her thighs. Moving inward, he nudged her legs as far apart as her position would allow. He leaned forward, nosing into her curls and scenting her sharp, heady arousal. Tongue darting out, he worked between her lips, teasing the soft flesh that lay hidden there. Hot, satiny and already begging for his touch. He felt her thighs tighten as he found her clit, worrying it idly for a moment before pulling back to rest on his heels. "I have every intention of doing this, my dear. And much, much more."
Her attempts to escape only opened her more. She stopped, her upper arms flexing as she tested her bonds for any give while never looking away from his eyes. "Please, Sebastian, let me down. I'm sorry. Really I am."
And she meant it, too, it seemed. But he wasn't doing this for an apology. He was doing this to drive a point home. Though it was nice to know how greatly he could still affect her.
He acknowledged as much. "I'm certain you are, Laura, but why on earth do you think that would make me stop now when I have you exactly where I want you?"
Without further ado, he delved back between her thighs, burying mouth and tongue in soft, welcoming heat, savoring the essence of her arousal that flowed out to greet him.
Her head banged against the door at the plush invasion of his warm tongue, unable to prevent her body's reaction to him. She didn't want him, not like this, not when he had control and she had none. But that didn't stop the pleasure of his gentle caress from warming her, weakening her further, making her want to spread her legs even as she wanted to kick him away.
Sebastian could feel Laura fight her body's responses to his touch. He laughed silently to himself as he pressed on, slipping his tongue into her clenching channel and losing himself in the slick slide of her pillowed depths. Reluctantly he retreated, moving back to worry the taut bud of her clit until her leg muscles started to quiver around him. She was so close. He could push her over the edge with just a little more... So he pulled away, moving from the welcoming haven of her sex to stand before her, waiting for her to regain her senses.
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