Blackmailing the Bad Girl (Cutting Loose)

by Nina Croft

  So what did he want? While she wasn’t experienced, she’d caught one or two glances that had made her insides melt. She was the first to admit that she had self-image issues. It would be stranger if she didn’t. But, as unbelievable as it might seem, she had to accept that Nik wanted her. A man like that—gorgeous, rich, sexy. He could have any woman he wanted. Why would he want her?

  Was she the one that got away?

  Had he built her up into more than she was simply because she was unfinished business?

  Maybe if they were “finished” business, he would let her go.

  Her eyes drifted closed as she pictured him in her mind. Those big hands. That big body. His dark eyes. His mouth.

  She might have let out a little groan, but hopefully it wouldn’t carry through the door.

  She always liked to distill things down to logic. So here were the facts.

  He was blackmailing her and had enough evidence to put her away for a long time. But so far, he hadn’t tried to force her to do anything bad. In fact, all he wanted was her to work for him, at a good job, one she would never have otherwise landed with her record and her lack of official qualifications. Plus, he was paying her a great salary. Granted, she didn’t want his job. The last thing she wanted was to work for a big organization like Masterton. She hated them—a company like his had torn her family apart.

  Okay, here was where it got murky…

  He wanted her. He might not have come right out and said it, but she wasn’t that naive.

  And finally, and maybe most importantly, she wanted him.

  She exhaled, blowing a whole load of bubbles off her breasts. There, she’d admitted it. The weird, creepy sensation that had been afflicting her since she’d first set eyes on him that morning was lust. Obviously, for most of the day, it had been somewhat overshadowed by the other emotions raining down on her: fear of being sent back and locked up for the foreseeable future, anger, frustration, vulnerability. But the lust had been there all along.

  So, she wanted him. Hot and hard and naked. Like she’d never wanted anyone in her whole life before. As she finally admitted the truth to herself, the tight knot in her belly unraveled.

  Would it make her situation worse?

  She didn’t see how it could be worse.

  Was she drunk? She glanced over the edge of the bath at the half-empty bottle of champagne. Probably.

  She had a gorgeous man in the living room. She hadn’t had sex in…a very long time. For tonight, she wanted to forget.

  Just how much persuading was he going to take? Because she’d never seduced anyone in her life before, and if he played hard to get, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

  All the same, she was going to try.

  Chapter Five

  What the hell was he doing?

  She was right. He should go.

  Actually, he should never have come.

  Christ, she wasn’t the only one who was off balance.

  He’d tell her he was leaving and then he’d…leave. He headed back to the bathroom, raised his hand to bang on the door again just as it opened.

  His heart skipped a beat. She wore a purple silk robe that skimmed her breasts and ended at midthigh. Her legs were bare. So were her feet, and her nipples poked at the thin silk. And just like that, leaving was no longer an option.

  Holy shit.

  She peered up at him through her lashes and gave a little shrug. “I’ve no other clothes here, and I didn’t want to put my old stuff back on.” She waved a hand down over her body. “I hope this is okay. Not in violation of our contract or anything. You know—the employee must be properly attired at all times.”

  He cleared his throat. A towel was wrapped around her head.

  Concentrate on that instead of her nipples.

  Her skin was clear of makeup, pale, almost translucent, her eyes huge, her mouth pink and full and…she looked so goddamn innocent.

  She was playing with the belt of her robe. Just one tug.

  He cleared his throat. She held the half-empty bottle of champagne in one hand, her glass in the other. Without thinking, he plucked both from her fingers, turned, and carried them back into the living room. She followed him. He stopped beside the bed, filled the glass, emptied it in one swallow, then refilled it and handed it to her.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked.

  Was he?

  He wouldn’t be that low. Would he?

  “You’re thinking too hard,” she said, when he failed to come up with an answer. “Anyway, I think it’s too late.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, sank down onto the mattress, and thought a bit more.

  No, he didn’t want her drunk. But he wanted to wipe some of the strain from her eyes. Of course, that strain might be his fault. Hell, there was no “might” about it.

  But he wasn’t letting her go until… Until what? He was sure she wasn’t a danger to society? Or until he was sure she was all right and could stand alone and not fall back into her bad ways? Definitely not until he’d gotten her out of his system, could turn his back and not think of her again. But while he’d always intended to finish what they’d started that night, he’d also meant to give her some space, some time to accept that the desire between them had been real, even if nothing else was.

  Clearly, that was before the whole nearly-naked thing.

  “Definitely thinking too hard,” she murmured. “You don’t have to, you know.”

  “Don’t have to what?” His brain wasn’t functioning. Perhaps because his whole blood supply was heading south to his dick.

  “Get me drunk.” She came down beside him, swinging her legs over the edge so they sat side by side, their arms touching. She tugged at the robe so it covered her to midthigh. Her legs were long and slender, and silky smooth, her feet narrow. She flexed her toes a couple of times, then looked up into his face. “Today hasn’t worked out as I expected.”

  How had she planned to celebrate her first day of freedom? Perhaps he didn’t want to know. All the same, he couldn’t keep the words back. “What did you plan to do?”

  “Nothing. That was the whole point. It was a day where I didn’t have to do anything, nothing organized at least, and there was nowhere I had to be.” She shrugged. “I would probably have just wandered the streets.”

  “Someone was there to meet you at the prison.”

  Her face closed up. “No, there wasn’t.”

  Yes, there was, but she clearly wasn’t ready to talk about whoever it was, and he decided not to push it. She was relaxing—more than half a bottle of champagne would do that. Though she didn’t seem drunk, she was opening up. She reminded him of the pretty, shy accounts clerk who had entranced him nearly three years ago. The one he hadn’t been able to get out of his head or his dreams since. He had to remind himself that it had all been an act.

  “You know,” she said, “Darcy told me to go out and pick up some guy tonight. Have some fun.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I wouldn’t know how anyway. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not a virgin or anything.”

  Definitely opening up. “That’s a relief.”

  “It is? Do you have something against virgins, Mr. Masterton?”

  “Too much trouble. They expect too much, saving themselves for something. I don’t want to be that thing.”

  She smiled. “They want more than you’re willing to give?”

  “I learned a long time ago to keep my expectations low as far as women are concerned. They only want one thing.”

  “Your charming company?”

  “My money.”

  “You’re a cynic.”

  “Most rich people are.”

  “I’m sure you must meet lots of women who aren’t interested in your money.”

  “I thought I’d met two in my life. I married one, who then divorced me, taking a lot of my money with her. The other one pretended to like me, and then she vanished,
also taking a lot of my money with her.”

  “Oh.”

  “Exactly.”

  She studied him, her head cocked to one side. “You could always give it away. Then people would have to like you for yourself.” She gave a shrug and a small smile. “Or perhaps not like you at all.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Anyway, my point was, I don’t need to go out and pick up a guy. Because I have you, seemingly catering to my every need, plying me with alcohol. I don’t know why you’re doing it, what your motives are—though I suspect something bad. But I’ve decided that tonight is a time-out. Tonight, I don’t care about the whys. Or what your nefarious plan is for my ultimate downfall. Or how your little revenge scenario will play out.”

  He turned his head so he could look into her face. “You are drunk.”

  “Maybe a little. Not enough to worry about, though that might change. I want to let go.” She drained her glass. “I want you.”

  He swallowed as heat pooled in his groin. This was the point where he did the honorable thing. Tucked her into bed and kept his distance, giving her some space. For tonight, anyway. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them as her small hand moved to his thigh.

  “Do you hate me?” she asked.

  Yes. No. Christ, he had no clue. He hated what she’d done. How she made him feel. Okay, that was a lie. His dick certainly liked the way she made him feel. Her hand on his leg was inching up, and that traitorous organ was pushing almost painfully at his fly.

  “I know I have to pay for my sins,” she murmured. “And I will. I’ll be an exemplary employee. But can’t I have tonight, just for make believe?”

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to order his thoughts, but his mind was scrambled. He needed to know what she wanted from him. Spelled out. So he didn’t make the wrong move. He knew she was vulnerable right now. But he wanted her with a desperation that bordered on pathetic. At the same time, he didn’t want to hurt her. And that was crazy. She was the one who had hurt him. Used him.

  “What do you want, Summer?”

  “I want you to be my coming-out present.” She placed her empty wineglass on the floor and straightened. “After all, you’ve been my coming-out nightmare. Let’s balance the books. Let’s pretend I’m not a thief. Let’s go back three years to when I kissed you.” She moved suddenly, swinging her leg over him so she straddled his hips, her hands on his shoulders. Pressing down on his cock, she rubbed against him. He sat perfectly still while his muddled brain tried to come up with a plan. What was he supposed to do?

  His mind was screaming—give in to the inevitable.

  There was nothing wrong with this. While he didn’t approve of relationships at the office, she wasn’t actually working for him…yet. Though she had signed the contract. But he couldn’t leave her. Not when she was like this. God only knew what she would do.

  She giggled, and his eyes snapped open.

  “You look absolutely terrified,” she said. “I won’t hurt you. Honest.” And she lowered her head and kissed him.

  Her lips were soft and warm, and at the first touch, he shut the thinking parts of his brain down and gave in. Because he wanted this. Probably more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life before.

  As he gave himself up to pure feeling, his nostrils filled with the sweet, sharp scent of the perfume on her skin. His hands had been limp at his side, but now they came to life with no instruction from his brain, just working on autopilot. He slid them up her back, over the smooth silk, feeling the hard curve of her spine, then down her sides to settle on the narrow curl of her hips and shift her closer. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and still she kissed him. He moved one hand to the back of her neck, sliding it beneath her damp hair to angle her head for his kiss, parting her lips, pushing his tongue inside. For a second, she went still. Then her soft tongue slid against his. She tasted exactly as he remembered, honey and citrus, and he deepened the kiss, taking control, his mouth hard against hers. Finally, they came up for air. She was breathing deeply, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the movement rubbing her hard little nipples against his chest.

  He needed to feel her, skin on skin, and he leaned back a little so he could grab the bottom of his T-shirt and drag it over his head. He tossed it onto the floor.

  Her gaze was fixed on his chest, and he took one of her hands and placed the palm flat against his skin.

  Her eyes widened. “I can feel your heart.”

  He grinned. “I bet you didn’t believe I had one.” His fingers played with the silk belt of the robe. One tug and she would be all but naked, straddling him. His dick throbbed and her eyes widened. But there was one thing he needed to say before they continued. He struggled to get the words out, because he had an idea they were going to be a real mood-breaker.

  “Just one thing,” he said. “Before we go any further.”

  At his serious tone, she leaned back a little so she could look into his face. Something flared in her eyes. “You’re not married, are you?”

  He frowned. “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  “No. And no serious girlfriends.”

  “What sort of man has unserious girlfriends?” She waved a hand. “Don’t answer that. You were saying…?”

  “One thing before we go any further.” Though he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to stop now. All the same, it had to be said. “This isn’t fucking blackmail,” he growled. “Don’t wake up tomorrow and tell me I forced you to do this.”

  Her eyes widened. She blinked a couple of times as if trying to make sense of his words. Then she nodded. “It’s not blackmail.”

  “Are you just saying that because you’re desperate, and I’m the only man available?”

  “Hah. In your dreams. I think you’ve forgotten Sam.”

  “As I said—I’m the only man available.”

  She pecked him on the cheek. “Of course you are. And I’m not desperate. And you’re not forcing me. Okay?” She raised a brow. “Can we move on now?”

  “You’re impatient.”

  “It’s been a while.”

  Gripping her hips, he shifted her back slightly so he could see. Then, holding his breath, he tugged at the knot in the belt. It unraveled, and he parted the silk so it framed her breasts. They were full, round, perfectly formed above her narrow rib cage, the nipples pale pink and prominent. For long seconds, he stared, feeling the heat burn in his belly, his balls aching.

  Lowering his head, he stroked his tongue over one hard nipple, then the other, nipping it with his teeth—so she gasped—then sucking it into his mouth. Her back arched, pushing into him, and she writhed on his lap.

  He straightened, pushed the robe from her shoulders so it pooled on his knees. As he stroked a fingertip down her rib cage, her skin shivered beneath his touch. Her belly was almost concave—she definitely needed fattening up. Then his fingers moved lower, to ruffle the pale blond hair at the base of her belly.

  He glanced up, stopped, enthralled by the look on her face. Her eyes were half closed, her lips slightly parted; a dull flush stained her cheekbones. He kept his attention on her face as he slipped his hand between her thighs, found the seam of her sex and slowly pushed between the folds.

  “Christ,” he murmured.

  At the words, her lids flew open.

  “Sorry, but you are hot and wet and that is such a goddamn turn-on.”

  He was so hard now; it bordered on painful. He had to make her come and preferably fast, because if he didn’t get inside her soon, he was going to go seriously insane. Just one more touch. He loved the dazed expression in her eyes, as though he was the first person to give her pleasure.

  “Kneel up,” he said.

  She came up on her knees, still straddling him, giving him perfect access. He glided his finger along the slippery wetness, found the tight little bud of nerves, and circled it slowly. Her hips pushed toward him asking for more. He circled again, then ran th
e pad of his finger lightly over her and her head fell back.

  So sensitive.

  He clasped her hips, and in one fluid move he picked her up, turned her around and lowered her to the mattress. He parted her thighs and went down on his knees between them. She tried to close her legs, but he was in the way.

  Something twisted inside him at the sight of her sprawled wantonly in front of him. She’d relaxed, lying flat on her back, but her breasts rose and fell with each rapid breath. He palmed them both, squeezing, tugging the tips between his finger and thumb. Then, leaning over her, he stroked them with his tongue until they glistened.

  As he straightened, she raised her head to watch him. He placed his hands on her thighs, widening the space between them. Her clit pouted out from between the folds.

  He lowered his head and licked a long, slow stroke along the length of her sex. He heard her gasp, but ignored the sound. Instead, he concentrated on giving her pleasure, tasting her sweetness, which was driving him wild. Stroked again, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. She was writhing against the mattress now, and he held her still with his hands on her ass, presenting her up for his pleasure. He stopped teasing because he really did need to get inside her soon. Sucking her clit into his mouth, he stroked her with his tongue, feeling the tension rising inside her as her back arched. He sucked, then stroked, then bit down gently, and she came apart for him, pulsing against his tongue, his mouth flooding with the sweet, salty taste of her pleasure.

  He gave her one last kiss and backed away, rising to his feet.

  “Christ, you’re perfect.”

  She watched him out of dazed eyes, making no attempt to cover herself.

  He unbuckled his belt, lowered his zipper, groaned at the relief as his rock-hard dick claimed a little freedom, a little room to maneuver. He made to push his jeans down, then hesitated, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, found a condom, and tossed it on the bed beside her.

  She didn’t say a word. Just stared at it, her expression still dazed.

  He toed off his boots, then shoved his jeans and boxers down, stepping out of them and kicking them out of the way.