by Opal Carew
Noah cupped her cheek. He knew he was pushing it, wanting to act on the thing between them. “Why him? He took that kiss. He didn’t ask, or build up to it. He walked up to you and demanded your response. You didn’t like that. Why do you think he wants you to do the same to him now?”
She drew a ragged breath. Pulling back, Noah tilted her face up and drank in her parted lips, the dazed gloss of her half-lidded eyes. He watched closely until she remembered she didn’t want this attraction and her face changed.
She jerked her chin, and when he held firm, she twisted, bringing her shoulder up as a shield between them.
“He wouldn’t be yours now if I’d understood how things were. How they would be, who we would be. If I’d understood, he would have been my first, and he wouldn’t have needed you.”
She tipped her chin, defiant, her eyes bright, beautiful, as she waited for him to bleed at the point of her knife.
Well, she’d be waiting a long damn time for that, but he had something else he could show her. He slid his hand to grip her ponytail. “You don’t know the first thing Ty needs. Lucky you, I believe in education.”
Without another word, he took her mouth with his.
* * *
Tasha’s body flashed cold, then hot, as a ripple of pleasure-pain spread out from her scalp, where Noah held her hair hard enough to prevent her forgetting his mastery while he licked past her lips.
Her pulse skittered as he used his free hand to grip her hand and raise it to his neck, a silent demand that she understood instantly. Understood and, inexplicably, wanted to obey. Instinct and reason waged war, and instinct won as she clasped her hands at his nape.She was dressed for West Coast autumn, not the first Mid-Atlantic cold snap, and her thin cotton sweater didn’t protect her at all from the cold, hard angles of the car door pressing against her back and hips, but that didn’t seem to matter. The heat of Noah’s skin spread through her as he pinned her in place with a knee between her thighs and the thick length of his erection against her belly. He trailed his free hand over the curve of her breast, shaping the weight with his palm, and she lost track of what she was fighting.
Moaning, she arched her back and rose on tip-toe, trying to direct his cock to a more satisfying location. Three seconds in his arms and she was already soft and wet. Ready for Noah, who she’d expected to hate, not desire. Confusion whipped through the back of her mind, but before she could grasp at the thought, Noah dropped his hand to her ass and lifted her. Her legs parted like they were operating independently of her brain and her knees lifted, grasping his hips, pulling him in.
The two-note beep of a car alarm reminded her they were in public, two or three layers of cotton the only thing standing between them and indecency. The knowledge should have cooled her down but instead, it made her hotter, and she was wedging her hands between their bodies, her fingers behind his belt buckle, when Noah tore his lips from hers and twisted her head so he could lick the sensitive hollow behind her ear.
She was shivering over the rasp of his stubble along her cheek when his warm breath fanned into her ear canal, sending a shudder of hunger through her entire body. And his voice--God.
His voice.
“Have you ever been naked in public, Natasha? Ever put your beautiful little body on display?” The low, rough words rasped along her nerve endings, dark with arousal and challenge.
Not trusting herself to speak coherently, she bit her lip and shook her head. Or tried to. Noah held her immobile, his forearm flexed against the side of her neck.
“Answer me with words.”
“No, Sir.” The immediacy with which she responded, not even stopping to think before obeying him--and using that word--set off all her inner alarms.
This time it was Noah’s turn to shudder. He sucked in a breath and his abs flexed against her hands, reminding her how close she was to touching his cock.
How close she was to asking him for so much more than permission to touch.
“You will be.” He punctuated his whispered promise by pressing his fingertips into her ass cheek and tilting her pelvis to meet his. The tight, confined thrust of hardness against her core scattered her thoughts all over again. Noah bucked between her legs, abs and thighs bunching as he ground the long ridge of his arousal against her, and the way he held her spread open left zero protection.
Her breath came in short, harsh bursts. Every muscle inside her tensed, trembling and seeking, straining toward Noah’s mastery. Footsteps and wheeled luggage somewhere in the parking garage reminded her they weren’t alone, and that made her more desperate. She squirmed against him, trying to gain leverage to push him away with her knees even as her arms pulled him closer. Her mind and body fought against each other, and her body was winning. She felt herself climbing higher and higher until he closed his teeth around a tender part of her neck and pushed her over the edge.
It didn’t matter that they were out in the open, that Noah was her enemy, not her lover. Reason didn’t matter. Somehow, Noah knew her body, and he used it as a weapon against her. She came hard, with frightening suddenness, and for a moment, guilt beat back the pleasure. But the moment was lost, and nobody existed except Noah.
As the shock softened, Noah’s hold on her hair gentled and his pumping hips slowed. She wished he would let her go and turn away, but he stayed with her, reminding her in unnecessary ways--because how could she forget?--that he was still there.
While she shivered and clung, trying to sort through her jumbled emotions, he soothed the sting of a bite mark with his tongue and cooled the damp spot with his breath.
“I’m in control here, Natasha, and I don’t surrender it lightly. Remember that when you’re aiming your luscious mouth at my lover. Remember this.” He pulsed against her one more time, triggering a new wave of aftershocks, and didn’t let her go until she sagged limp in his arms.
When he lowered her feet to the ground, the chill of cold concrete under her one bare foot barely registered. Noah drew her away from the car door and imprisoned her against his chest, his forearm hard below her shoulder blades, as he opened the door and installed her into the passenger seat. After she was settled, he scooped her errant shoe from beneath the car and bent to slide it over her foot.
His words finally registered and took on meaning as he walked to the driver’s side and slide into the seat. Noah jabbed the key into the ignition and fired the engine, staring straight ahead as if she no longer existed for him.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered.
He flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t it?”
Tasha shivered. She turned her face away from the stark, white outline of his knuckles.
Noah reached out and cupped her chin, pulling her head back around to hold her gaze. His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Ty is mine, Natasha. You want to touch him, fuck him, get on your knees and lick his impressive dick? You’ll have to beg me for permission.”
Tasha opened her mouth and closed it, at a loss for words. Leaving her to stew in her head, Noah backed from the space and left the garage.
Silence filled the car as Noah negotiated traffic and Tasha desperately tried to gather her scattered thoughts. She shot him a sidelong glance. Noah was aware that Ty wasn’t happy. Oh, he didn’t say it. But Tasha wasn’t stupid, and Noah wasn’t as unreadable as he thought.
After he merged into traffic, she drew a deep breath and said, “You might think you know what Ty needs, but I know he’s not happy. If I can give him what he needs, then I’m going to give it to him.” Her voice shook. She couldn’t seem to completely suppress her fear. Noah didn’t strike her as the reasonable type. He seemed downright fucking dangerous in more ways than one.
“Do you think I don’t know every change, every nuance of his emotions? I’m his Dominant. I don’t get to be oblivious.” He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. Tasha thought he was finished, was mounting her next attack, when he said, “I’ve brought submissives to Ty. T
hey were temporary and never touched what is between us. But you? I can’t compete with you. I won’t.”
The stark bitterness in his tone stole some of her anger, made her feel small and terrible. “Noah, I never meant to…” What could she say? She had meant to come between them. She didn’t want just any Dom. She wanted Ty.
“You’re not taking the next flight back to California, are you?”
She shook her head, committed heart and soul to this course. “I’m sorry, Noah.”
“I am too, Natasha. More than you can know.”
Chapter Two
Ty tried to focus on the traffic as he navigated through Baltimore’s busy downtown, but knowing Tasha was waiting for him made it damn hard to keep his head in the present. Noah was always ribbing him about his driving, the way he barely acknowledge the rules of the road as his mind worked through problems. He couldn’t retrain his brain, though. He’d tried. Something about the muscle memory of his hands on the wheel and his feet on the gas unlocked his inner problem solver. Whenever he got stuck on something like lining up the perfect angle for a photo or figuring out how to address a difficult situation with Noah, he knew the open road would see him through.
Noah.
At a traffic light, Ty scrubbed his hands over his face and blew out a long breath. In the seven years since Ty had met the tall, quietly powerful man he called Master, so many things had changed. Noah nurtured and grew the submissive half of Ty’s deepest self, but Noah’s commitment didn’t stop when the knots came untied.
Like Ty, Noah was an artist. Noah’s strong hands and creative vision could do mind-blowing things with leather. Noah had built a career out of a basement workshop, designing everything from vanilla accessories to steampunk costuming and fetish gear. His client base spanned North America, including Canada, and the waiting list for a Noah Dreyfus original was three years long.
Ty’s media was photography, and he hadn’t experienced success to the same degree Noah had achieved. From time to time, Ty thought about giving it up and putting his business degree to use. Noah, being the man and Master he was, talked Ty down from that ledge every time.
Noah gave Ty everything…but Ty still wanted more.
More was waiting for him now, sweet and warm and finally, finally aware of who she was.
Submissive.
His.
But could she be more than his, the way, deep down, he was more than Noah’s?
God. He didn’t want to crack this issue open, but the revelation that Tasha had finally discovered her sexual nature had been like a lightning strike. Noah knew Ty was a switch, and had introduced both male and female bottoms into their relationship. But those passing diversions weren’t enough. They weren’t Tasha, and they didn’t speak to his dominant urges the way she did. Tasha had been the one woman he’d wanted but never pursued, not wanting to influence something she needed to discover for herself.
Well, she’d discovered it, and now…
Yeah, what now?
He still didn’t have a damn clue when he let himself into the house he and Noah had shared for the last five years. Noah’s house, and getting past that reality had taken Ty some time. He was Noah’s submissive in bed, but he was still a man with more pride than he could afford to carry around most days. Some inequalities still stung, but they were results of Ty’s choices, not anything Noah denied him.
Hell, Noah never denied him anything. Went out of his way to provide for Ty’s needs and desires, even when Ty didn’t know he needed or wanted.
Even when Noah knew Ty’s desire could change everything between them.
As he closed the front door, listening for sounds of Noah or Tasha moving around in the dark house, Noah’s beloved face flashed in Ty’s memory. It was only a week ago that he’d revealed Tasha’s return to the East Coast, and the invitation he’d extended to her, which he’d presented to Noah as doing a favor for a friend. Not exactly a lie, but Ty still felt the occasional pang of guilt over withholding the full truth of his reasons.
Worse than the guilt was the knowledge Noah saw through the half-truth but hadn’t objected to Ty’s undeclared intentions. Noah hadn’t said anything at all about the issue.
The silence was eating Ty alive.
He dropped his keys on a marble-topped table near the door and closed his eyes, trying to capture some of the emotional stillness that always came over him as he lined up the perfect shot with his camera. The quiet of the house should have helped Ty center himself but calm eluded him. Noah and Tasha pulled him in different directions.
Was he man enough to draw both of them back to him, and toward each other at the same time?
A noise drew Ty to the kitchen, where the door to the basement stood half open. Noah had converted the finished basement into a workshop even before asking Ty to move in with him. The scent of leather and oil drifted up the stairs, scents Ty would always associate with Noah--inside the bedroom and out.
While he stood there, trying to decide which path to take--down to Noah, or off in search of Tasha--a shadow angled across the bottom of the narrow stairs. The shadow hesitated before continuing on, and Ty knew his presence had been noted.
Blowing out a breath, he started down the stairs. As much as he burned to see Tasha again, he owed his relationship with Noah some extra care and consideration.
Their connection was deeper than two guys fucking.
Ty knew that Noah was agitated just by the way he moved in the workshop downstairs. The late hour was just more proof of the disorder of their household. Noah was a regular sleeper, his center solid, his routine consistent. When he was upset or angry, he broke that routine, sometimes foregoing sleep until he was too exhausted to stay awake.
The source of this disruption to Noah’s routine was no mystery, and it was past time Ty owned up to what he’d done. Rolling his shoulders, Ty went downstairs. At the first creak of the steps, all activity in the workshop ceased, as if Noah had frozen.
The workshop was in an unusual state of disarray, with tools scattered instead of neatly hung. Bits of leather and wood littered the floor. Noah was bent over the work bench, his features illuminated by an architect lamp. He was working on an elaborate collar, the scroll work delicate and beautiful. The supple leather band reminded Ty that Noah had never collared him, never even offered it. When they attended lifestyle events, Noah always used a temporary collar. Ty had never questioned it until now. Why hadn’t Noah claimed him in front of their friends?
The time was all wrong but Ty couldn’t contain the question. “Why haven’t you collared me, Noah?”
The silence seemed to last an eternity and when Noah finally answered, he didn’t turn. “Would you have agreed, Ty?”
Shit. Would he have said “yes”? Ty wanted to believe that he would have been ecstatic to receive a promise of commitment from his Dominant. But the truth was more complicated. His relationship with Noah had drifted, mutual pleasure easily attained, even a solid friendship that Ty could rely upon, but the issue wasn’t black and white. Ty didn’t want to be only a submissive. Noah had known it and never demanded that Ty turn away from his dominant aspects.
“We could have agreed to bring in a female submissive--” Ty stopped. No. And Noah cut through the bullshit like he always did.
“Not any woman.” Noah finally turned to face Ty. Even in this tense conflict, Noah drew him. Ty couldn’t look away from his heated gray eyes. Noah’s ability to reach inside Ty’s soul and see more than anyone else made him dangerous. And as necessary as breathing.
Ty didn’t bother asking how Noah had figured out the depths of his connection to Tasha, but he didn’t want Noah to think the sessions they’d enjoyed with a third had been meaningless.
The truth was, he’d learned a lot from those experiences. He’d enjoyed them, too, and as much as he needed the control Noah took--the release he gave--Ty also needed something in which they were equal.
Someone they could love and care for together.
&nb
sp; Ty realized Noah was still staring at him, waiting for a response. He took a step closer, needing Noah to believe him when he said, “It was never about the woman.”
Noah stared at him. “You know what happens when you lie to me.”
Ty’s cock jumped at the sensual threat. Tempting to turn this around and give Noah an outlet, but that would be more of a lie than his omission. This, he had to face head on. “It wasn’t about the woman. That’s the truth.”
“Not all of it. That woman upstairs? I know about her. I always have. You’ve hidden her from me, thinking I couldn’t see her in you. But I know you, Ty. Every time you rejected the idea of a permanent submissive in our lives, every time you kept your distance from the bottoms we shared, you told me all about Tasha.” Noah’s forceful words slapped Ty across the face.
An iron band locked around Ty’s lungs and squeezed, blacking his vision. Was Noah going to kick him out? It had always been one of Ty’s fears that Noah would become dissatisfied and end their relationship.
Noah threw a handful of grommet covers onto the workbench. The metal rings bounced and rolled as he shoved away from the table and stalked toward Ty. “You never said anything about her, but she was always here between us. And now she’s here. Between us. Does that answer your question? I never asked you for a commitment because I didn’t think you could give it to me.”
“Have I disappointed you? Haven’t you gotten what you wanted from me? A perfect little trophy to parade around? A Dominant only you had the power to master?” Ty knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
“Yeah, I show you off,” Noah growled, opening and closing his fists. “You’re mine.”
Without warning, Noah grabbed Ty’s shoulder and pushed him against the wall. The rough, demanding kiss that followed made Ty groan. He met Noah with equal force, infusing the kiss with all his anger and need.
Somehow Noah got Ty’s hands above his head. He pinned Ty from wrist to thigh, even dropping one hand to encircle Ty’s throat with his fingers. Somewhere in the hungry, angry taking and giving, the kiss changed.