by Sara Brookes
The pink flush of her skin made him want to push up from the chair, cross to her and lave his tongue over every single inch of that heated skin. Even going so far as to feast on her until he was sated.
She gasped suddenly, her entire body going rigid as she climaxed. Her voice lifted in a husky cry that arrowed straight to the base of his dick. Pleasure flooded his body as he remembered how she’d felt milking his cock at the comic book store. He stifled a groan, afraid that if he gave in to the sensation, he’d miss the spectacular show before him.
As her release faded, her gaze lifted from the floor to meet his. There was no doubt in his mind she believed the one release was the end of the scene. He sipped again, savoring his drink as he made no move to take up the remote again. Her eyes went wide as her body strained against the restraints, her body releasing again.
“I see more than one orgasm is a new experience for you.”
“Yes.” The raspy sound of her voice flowed over his skin.
Just wait until you’re so lost you can’t stop. The idea of the opposite reaction—delayed orgasm—delighted him as well. Another time for him to play. Right now he liked her just as she was.
He set the scotch to the side, took up the remote and dropped it into his pocket as he approached. The coarse brick skinned his palms as he laid them on either side of where she was secured to the cross. “How does it make you feel? Is it too much or not enough?”
“No. Just right.”
The tension lacing through her voice caused his cock to jump. Down, boy.
“We can’t have that.” He reached into his pocket, flicking his thumb over the slider control for a higher level. Her arms jerked against his as he leaned forward. “Just right isn’t good enough. I want you at the edge and you’re not even close yet. I want you begging for me to give you more. My name will be the only sound on your breath before you scream.” His fingernails dug into the mortar between the bricks as his groin tightened even more. He forced the demanding arousal aside, as this wasn’t about him. “Find that edge. Balance on it for as long as I command. Is that clear?”
“Please.” Her plea came out as a sob.
“No.” The single word resonated through the room. He showed her the remote, pushing the slider up to where the next speed would kick in and thumbed the lock to keep it in place. Then he shoved the slim control into his pocket before replacing his hand on the wall beside her.
Confusion darkened her eyes. “You said you wanted me to beg and I am.”
“Please isn’t enough. You have to mean it, sub.”
“I do.”
“Not yet, you don’t.” He noticed how dark his voice sounded, even to himself. It had been some time since he’d been this engrossed in a scene. God, he’d missed sharing the experience with the submissive he was pleasuring.
“I don’t—I don’t understand.”
He pushed into her space, forcing her to feel as if there was no escape. “You have to surrender yourself wholly. You’re convinced what you want makes you weak or broken. You think if you give yourself over to me, you’ll no longer be your own woman. That is so far from the truth, Allison. And those thoughts have no place inside these walls. I will show you just how powerful you are when you surrender.
“Even though you think you have given yourself to me—you haven’t. You have to go further and stop thinking completely. Don’t force it to come, let it happen. Let me be the one who says you go, not you. Now—show me.”
“I can’t.” Lines formed around her mouth as she pressed her lips tightly together.
“Bullshit. You don’t trust yourself enough. You’re still reaching for it. Trying to do it in order to please me because you think that’s what I want. Don’t think.” He lowered his hand, cupping his palm against her clit and pushing hard so she would feel the pressure through the thick leather. The position placed his fingers so he could feel the vibrations.
“Let yourself go. Even though I’ve told you to do it, you’re not giving yourself permission. I told you that you could, but you haven’t told yourself. You’re wondering about the ‘what if’. I’m ordering you to shut off that analytical brain of yours right now and just feel.”
Her body sagged in the restraints. By the set of her form, he knew the instant the powerful orgasm rocketed through her body. An oath ripped from her mouth as she drenched the leather and his hand.
But it still wasn’t enough.
“Again,” he demanded, pushing against her over-sensitized muscles. “God dammit—I want to hear you fall apart.”
Another oath spilled from her lips, becoming his name. As she surrendered without reservation, the sound of his name morphed into a scream. His body ignited, tension coiling tightly at the base of his spine. He reveled in her loss of control, waiting while she rode out the quick-fire series of completely unrestrained orgasms.
When her body sagged in the restraints he took her weight, flipping the panic snaps. He reached around to unlatch the same type of releases on the harness and let it fall to the floor.
With her body in a reactive state indicative of the first telling haze of subspace, he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. He set her gently on the mattress, then toed off his shoes and, still fully clothed, climbed into bed with her. She curled into him much as she had last night, resting her head against his shoulder with her legs winding around his.
“I came.”
“Very beautifully too. I’m very proud of you.” Patrick kissed the top of head. “I look forward to seeing you come like that again. And again. And again.”
“I meant more than once.” She lifted her head, blinking as if she didn’t know whether to be upset or impressed with what just happened. “I’ve never come more than once during sex. I didn’t even know it was possible.”
She nudged her head against his shoulder again, murmuring softly about her discovery. Patrick cradled her close, exhausted and spent because of his intense focus on her during the scene. Yet he was exhilarated at the same time. He smiled in the darkness when the sound of her breathing indicated she’d fallen asleep. She didn’t know it yet, but her surrender had only begun.
Chapter Eight
The sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon as Patrick prepared the shop for the first round of customers who would be arriving soon. He found he enjoyed the hushed silence this time of day brought. His life had changed dramatically in the past month, all because of a chance encounter right here in this very store.
He would never scoff at the idea of fate again.
A heavy knock echoed through the café. Surprised by the sound, he turned to find his brother on the sidewalk with his shoulders hunched against the chilly morning air as he fought with the lock. Shadows blackened the skin under his blue eyes, his pale flesh a stark contrast to the black wool pea coat. Even with the distance, Patrick noticed his brother didn’t quite fill out that coat as he once had. Looking closer, his pants didn’t quite fit either. He was almost…gaunt. Massive amounts of stress for an extended period of time had certainly started to take its toll.
Crumbling the plastic from a sleeve of paper cups, he tossed the trash into the bin as he crossed to the door to flip the lock. “The prodigal son returns. I assumed I was running the place by myself.”
“Says the man who’s been hard to get ahold of lately. I could have used some of your advice during the negotiations last week, but you seemed to have disappeared off the face of the planet.” Alex breezed past, ducking through the back room door to leave Patrick alone again. What in the ever-loving fuck was that about? He locked the door again, wiping the handle down before he slipped behind the counter. While divorce could certainly wear people down, he’d never seen his brother so brusque.
Alex burst through the door, cash till clutched between his hands. “What’s the code?”
“Well, good morning to you too, asshole.”
“Hi. Good morning. What’s the code?”
Patrick told him, watching as h
e slid the till into place in the drawer. Alex’s movements were jerky. Rushed, even. This kind of behavior was totally uncharacteristic for his brother. Combined with the dramatic weight loss, Alex appeared to be wasting away to nothing. Worry tightened a painful fist in his gut.
He’d always seen his older brother as a strong, unshakable tree who knew how to bend when necessary—especially after their father had lost his temper. As Patrick had lain in the hospital bed, Alex had been there providing the strong shoulder Patrick no longer possessed. He’d been the rock Patrick needed by his side as the physicians delivered devastating news.
This was some kind of alien version of Alex.
“You just going to stand there staring at me all morning?”
Determined to keep the mood light, Patrick smiled as he grabbed a fresh towel. “It’s your rugged features. I can’t stop staring at them. Something about four days of stubble just makes me all hot and bothered.”
“Piss off, Patrick. I’m not in the mood for your crap today.”
He could push, picking at whatever was wrong in order to force Alex to open up. But the end result wouldn’t be pretty. Holding his hands up in surrender, Patrick moved away to top off the beans in the espresso machine.
Alex disappeared through the swinging door, only to reappear a few seconds later with two trays of fresh pastries cradled on his forearms. “Genevieve dropped these by the house just as I was heading out this morning. She concocted a new recipe she wanted to try out, so let her know what the customers have to say.”
“Will do.” Patrick dumped half and half, creamer and skim milk in their respective pitchers and placed them on the far end of the counter with the rest of the self-serve condiments. As he was wiping his hands, he felt Alex’s stare. “What?”
“What’s put you in such a good mood?”
“What’s put you in such a foul one?” Alex remained silent. “And what the hell are you talking about? You haven’t been around to know what kind of mood I’ve been in.”
“Just now you were whistling. You only whistle when something has you happy-go-lucky.”
“I’ve never been happy-go-lucky a day in my life.” Patrick shrugged, plunging his hands into the hot soapy water to wash a steaming pitcher.
Alex gave him a dry look as he wiped the counter down in front of the register. He moved on to dilute the concentrated mixture Mitchie had prepared last night for the iced drinks. “Don’t try to bullshit me. I know better. The only other time I’ve seen that expression on your face was when you pitched that no-hitter junior year.”
Well, he certainly had him there. Patrick couldn’t remember a time when he’d been happier as he looked back over the past four weeks. No denying a remarkable change had taken place in his life. He’d kept news about the new relationship secret from everyone. Everyone except those he shared Sanctuary with, because they would know something was out of the ordinary. He’d been more of an active participant on the schedule Elena oversaw. In fact, he’d snapped up every free day available since they’d dined at The Copper Nickel.
Maybe it was time to come clean. Alex would just continue to pester him until he got a satisfactory answer. Especially considering his current temperament. Though he loved his brother dearly, family could be a real pain in the ass. “Remember the IT company I told you I hired to upgrade the computer system here?”
“Sure. You said they did a fabulous job.”
“She really did, didn’t she?”
Alex turned from the bakery case he’d been straightening. “So that’s it.”
“What?”
His brother pointed a finger in accusation. “Her. You said she instead of them. You’re seeing her, aren’t you? Allison, isn’t that what you told me?”
“Have been since the last day she came here to finish the install. But…this is more than just seeing. She does something to me. I have to have her. Like I can’t exist without her. I’ve never felt this way before.” Alex studied him closely as he went on and on. Patrick felt a little self-conscious and stopped mid-sentence before his rambles turned into incoherent babbles. Seemed as though she was rubbing off on him in more ways than one.
Alex slapped his brother on his back. “Love is a crazy thing. It has been known to have that effect on people.”
Patrick stopped and eyed Alex. Love? Surely not. Love rarely entered into his mind. He was usually very careful to avoid it and even believed he had even become a master at keeping a separation between sex and love. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed himself to feel something more for a woman than just sexual longing.
Love was a step he never took blindly. He also never took the step without knowing full well how the woman felt about him in return. Without a doubt, Allison found as much pleasure as he did when they were together. But he had no idea if her feelings for him ran deeper.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
The question snapped Patrick from his thoughts. The reason for his silence wasn’t entirely due to the fact he didn’t want to be ribbed by his older brother. “I know you’re going through a lot with Vivian right now. I’m not trying to parade a new relationship around in front of you. Not when love is probably the last thing on your mind because of the divorce.”
“Nonsense. It’s something you rightly deserve to do after all the years I hounded you about being single while I was married.” A few lines formed on Alex’s forehead, the stress of the situation reading clearly in his expression.
Smart, Conners. Real smart.
“How are things, by the way? You’ve been doing a bang-up job of avoiding me since you got back into town.”
“As well as can be expected.”
Despite the dismissive tone, Patrick knew better. His brother had fallen for Vivian in high school. He’d watched them go to dances, graduate together and even attend the same college. If there were ever two people completely in love with each other, it had been his brother and sister-in-law. Alex had been heartbroken since the separation, but in true Alex Conners fashion he was too proud to admit it to anyone.
“I know better. Just say ‘ridiculously shitty’.”
Alex sighed heavily, throwing down the cleaning towel. Evidently, the morning preparations could wait. Patrick gave Alex the once-over, noticing his brother looked every bit of his thirty-seven years. He wished there was something he could do in order to make this all go away. Goddamn Vivian and whatever holier-than-thou horse she’d rode in on.
“Some days are better than others. It’s difficult—at best. If I’d have seen it coming, it probably would have been easier to swallow.”
“There’s no way to see this kind of thing coming.”
“If I had been paying attention—then yes, I would have seen it. I was too wrapped up in getting this business off the ground to pull my head out of my ass and realize I was losing my wife. She was everything to me, Patrick. What the hell am I going to do without her?”
Sometimes his brother was just as stubborn as his soon-to-be ex-wife. In some way, he felt responsible. If he hadn’t kept Alex so busy, maybe he would have seen those signs. It hadn’t helped that he hadn’t been around as much as he wanted to recently because of Allison. Right then and there, he vowed to take on more responsibility around the shop in order to allow his brother to get a handle on his life.
“Have you thought about trying to get her back? I can handle the rest of the stuff with the store. If I need help with something, I can find someone else to do it. Not as if we couldn’t do with some more help around here. She’s your world, Alex. We both know that.”
Alex’s light brown hair shifted as he shook his head. “It’s too late for us now, Patrick. I appreciate the offer but it’s just not meant to be.” He pushed away from the counter, disappearing again.
The store opened on time, with the rest of the day passing in a blur. Mostly because his focus remained on Alex and his estranged wife. Alex’s mood darkened further throughout the course of the day as he gr
ew sullen. In order to give him some relief, Patrick had agreed to close up the shop.
As he walked home, he debated calling Allison to grab a late dinner. They hadn’t seen much of each other for a few days because she’d been working overtime on a big job. He missed her. Most of all, he missed the feel of her wrapped around him, panting as she came down from the high he’d lofted her onto.
A quiet cough caught his attention. Ryan and Dade stood near the entrance door to the warehouse, twin smirks turning up their mouths. “Hey, guys. Sorry, I didn’t see you standing there.”
Dade held up a hand. “You were caught up in your own little world. Wasn’t sure if we should disturb whatever fantasy you were living in.”
Patrick juggled his keys. “Just thinking about a few things.”
“Is one of them the reason you’ve been hogging the warehouse lately?” There was a glint in Ryan’s eye.
Patrick felt a deep sense of guilt about how he’d spent his time lately. Not that he lamented his actions in any way. His regret was because he’d kept the others from their own time to use the building. “Yeah, I’ve been hogging it a bit, haven’t I? Sorry about that.”
“No, you’re not,” they both replied in unison.
Ryan leaned against the building as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Before you try to say anything otherwise, I think I speak unanimously when I say it’s about damn time.”
Patrick dipped his head to hide a smile and actually shuffled his feet. “You two up to anything tonight?”
Dade stuffed his own keys into his jacket. “We were just heading to dinner over at Brogans. Up for it?”
It had been awhile since he’d hung out with his friends. One more night away from Allison wouldn’t kill him. Besides, the quiet rumble of his stomach reminded him he’d skipped lunch today. “Actually, that sounds like a great idea.”
Forty minutes later, the three men walked through the doors of Brogans, the only sports pub and grill in town. They’d all spent more than their fair share of time here during their late twenties. The atmosphere hadn’t changed much over the years, making Patrick feel as if he’d never left.