Nine Kinds of Naughty

by Jeanette Grey

  “Because.” Her voice shook. It was like someone took both ends of the knot in the center of her spine and yanked. She reached back to knead at the place where her shoulder met her neck, but she could never reach the spot that really ached.

  “Stop that.”

  She froze. There was something in his voice, an edge of command she’d never heard before.

  Shivering, she dared a look up to find that same laser-like focus to his eyes, the steely blue-gray of them boring into her. Like he could see into her, past the facade she worked so hard at to the quivering thing beneath it. To the daughter who had never been good enough, the girl who had never been heard or seen unless she made the people around her look.

  Dane was definitely looking now. In one smooth move, he shoved his armrest up and planted his legs in the aisle between them, thrusting the great, muscular bulk of his body out past his space and into hers. His hand clamped tight around her wrist, his fingers rougher than any office worker’s had any right to be. He stroked a thumb against her skin, and the tiny, trembling piece of her that had been so eager to let go before was ready to lay itself out at his feet.

  Breath shuddering, she exhaled, holding on to her control. “What are you doing?”

  She made a halfhearted effort to pull away, but his grip stayed firm.

  “You always do that,” he said.

  “So? My back always hurts.” It had been getting worse and worse. No amount of yoga or ergonomics seemed to help.

  The turbulence had mostly evened out, but another rumble chose that moment to jostle them.

  He tugged at her hand, pulling it away from her neck as he unclipped his seat belt and rose. With his free hand, he gestured at her laptop. “Are you really working on this?”

  “Trying to.”

  He leveled her with a look that brooked no argument. “Are you working on it.”

  Her throat bobbed. “Not really.”

  With that, he reached across the space and shut the lid. He tugged her up. Her seat belt caught, and her heart stopped, the stiff points of her nipples glowing with heat as he flicked the clasp open, his whole body too close, fingertips brushing her abdomen through her dress.

  And she should be stopping him.

  She staggered to her feet, everything shaking. Somehow she found her voice enough to speak, though the words didn’t quite make sentences. “The plane. Our seat belts. We should—”

  “It’s fine.”

  Sure enough, John had told them they were free to move about the cabin a little while after takeoff, and even with the light turbulence they’d had, he hadn’t given any instructions to the contrary.

  At her continued hesitance, Dane shook his head. “There are seat belts here, too, if it makes you feel better.”

  He guided her to one of the couches and sat her down on one end of it. Her hands went unerringly to the restraints he’d pointed out, but before she could do anything with them, his fingers grazed her skin again, taking the straps from her.

  “Only if you need it.”

  He lingered there, holding the ends of the belt, and the image sent another white-hot bolt of confused arousal along her spine. A roiling squirm of discomfort.

  She should get up. This was a terrible idea.

  But then his hand was on her shoulder, light and heavy all at the same time. “Stay.”

  She wasn’t a dog, goddammit all, but as he sat beside her, she didn’t move. Didn’t resist.

  “This is nothing new,” he insisted.

  Nudging at her shoulder, he urged her to give him her back. It made her feel even more vulnerable and exposed. When she twisted to peer at him, he shook his head, correcting her gently. A part of her bristled, but this other piece clung on. Like maybe she’d been waiting for this all along.

  “See?” he asked. Two broad palms settled to either side of her spine, thumbs grazing that aching line. “It’s my job to know what you need. Even when you don’t.”

  The truth sunk into her bones. Hadn’t she just been thinking that herself? The other day when he’d implied he wanted to stay in New York, she’d nearly agreed with him. She’d been right, too—the temptation he presented was too much. Leaving him behind would’ve made her life much easier.

  And it would have made it harder. He did know what she needed. Professionally, he anticipated her requests, had tasks completed before she’d even thought to assign them.

  Here, tonight, he’d seen the tension tearing her muscles to shreds and he’d pulled her away from her work. Already, she could breathe a fraction easier, her shoulders dropping.

  Then he dug his thumbs in hard.

  And she melted to a puddle beneath his touch.

  Dane could have kicked himself. All this time, he’d been holding back and holding back. Everything in his nature had told him to push, but Lexie had kept her distance, and so he’d let her.

  Idiot.

  His boss was a beautiful woman—a woman with needs, and he’d watched her for months denying every single one. She worked herself to the bone trying so fucking hard to prove something to someone. She had a chip on her shoulder the size of Alaska and a stick up her ass twice as wide, and he’d wondered about her. Deep in the darkest parts of his sick, twisted mind, he’d kept coming back to the idea that just beneath that tough outer skin there might be a soft, sensual creature who was screaming to be let out. A piece of her that ached to have somebody else take control.

  He’d watched her wind herself up like a spring, until he was the one who snapped. He couldn’t take it anymore. And so he’d torn her from the single spreadsheet of figures she’d been struggling to focus on for twenty minutes now. He’d brought her to this open space where there was no screen or table or title to hide behind.

  He’d put his hands on her at last, and she wasn’t hard. She wasn’t steel. Oh no. Her skin was silk, all smooth and warm. Tracing his palms along her spine, the heat of it filled his lungs, the singular purpose and the calmness to his mind he got only when he was diving off a cliff or placing a woman on her knees.

  Then he dug his thumbs into the tightness of her shoulders, and she let out a moan that went straight to his cock.

  Jesus. She might need this even worse than he did.

  “That’s right.” Murmuring quiet encouragements against her ear, he deepened the pressure. The woman might not be steel, but her back was all knots. One by one, they gave beneath his palms, the tension in her spine releasing. It was like ice melting, like really good sex.

  And that was a thought, wasn’t it? Next time, he’d do this to her naked. He’d lay her out on a real mattress and push her into it, get her slick with oil, and when she went to putty in his hands, he’d slip lower. Past her ass and down her thighs and then back up. He’d rub her right where she needed it, all around that sweet little cunt until she was begging for it. For him and for his cock.

  His breathing evened out for the first time in what felt like days, his thoughts bright and clear as he found a particularly vicious knot between her shoulder blades. He rubbed and rubbed, and every sound she made pushed him higher.

  All at once, the angry curl of muscle melted, and that was it. She sagged against him, beautiful in her surrender, and he was flying. He was steady and strong as a mountain, and he felt that tall.

  “There you go.” His voice pitched deep as he coaxed her to surrender even more. To rest her head against his shoulder, her spine pressed flush against his chest. As she leaned back, he skimmed his hands up and down her arms, a glowing coal burning hot inside his heart. “Doesn’t it feel nice? To let someone take care of you?”

  “I shouldn’t.” In the faintest twitch, she shook her head, but the words were soft around the edges. Muted in a way hers never usually were.

  “Shh, of course you should.”

  And she was gorgeous, all pliant and relaxed. The fierceness she showed around the office had never failed to make him hard, but this was even better. High on the sweet perfume of her shining hair, he let his fin
gers entwine with hers, bringing their arms across her body until he was holding her.

  “No.”

  It was the faintest whisper, so quiet it scarcely registered above the triumphant roar inside his head.

  But then it did. The clarity he’d found shuddered, and his pulse skipped a beat. “Shh,” he tried.

  “No.” She struggled for real this time, all the easiness to her body disappearing. As if the tension he’d wrung from her had never really left, as if it had only been lying in wait.

  All at once it sprang.

  He released her immediately. He might be an asshole and a sadist, and he’d role-played a bit with consent in his time, but only when things were clear. Negotiated to the last detail with every party on board.

  She lurched to her feet, and it grated roughly inside him. She’d been so close to that quiet place subs sometimes talked about reaching. Jumping up like this, trying to come out of it when she wasn’t ready, was flat-out dangerous, but when he reached for her, she retreated farther.

  “I can’t,” she said.

  Only he was still in it, too. His headspace was all fucked up now, but his heart beat with the calm conviction of his role. Power still surged in his veins.

  And when a sub was being a brat, it made him an asshole.

  He rose, crossing his arms over his chest and stalking forward with all his height. “Why not?”

  “Because.” Glazed eyes stared back at him. They were clearing by the second, fear replacing the haze.

  Shit, this was going pear-shaped fast.

  But he couldn’t seem to rein himself in. “Why. Not.”

  Her jaw ticked, but the words came spilling out, too fast by half, and her eyes were wild. “Because. I can’t. People. At the office, they won’t respect me. Not if I do this again. I already . . .”

  If they’d been anywhere but on a plane at thirty thousand feet, he’d bet his rent she would have run.

  “Fuck that.”

  She started. Deers in headlights looked less skittish. “But—”

  “Fuck all of that. This isn’t about them.” It wasn’t about whoever the hell she was trying to impress. It wasn’t about employees or shareholders or even her older brother. “It’s about us. You and me. On this plane.”

  He took another step to close the space between them, and she had nowhere left to go. When her ass hit the back of the seat behind her, she stopped short. Her gaze darted all around, trapped, and it made the animal inside him flick its tail.

  When his chest grazed hers, he let it rest there, every inhalation making their bodies brush. Her breath came in fast little pants, a sweet flush rising on her cheeks, like she’d been running. Like she’d just gotten fucked within an inch of her life, except no.

  That part was still to come.

  An echo of a growl rumbled in his throat. “This is about the fact that you. Want. Me.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Don’t lie to me.” There were things in this world he could abide by. But don’t anybody fucking dare lie to him.

  “I—”

  His heart thundering, cock pounding, he lifted a hand and traced it down the column of her neck. “You want me. If I lifted that dress and put my fingers in your pussy you’d be soaked. You’re shaking, you’re so wet for it.”

  Her throat bobbed. “So what if I am?”

  His voice took on a dangerous edge. “You don’t get to keep having it both ways. We’ve been riding this line for months now. You push and I pull, and you back away and I let you go. But you put me on this plane with you, when I told you I didn’t want to go.”

  “I needed you. As my assistant.”

  “You needed me on that couch.” When she tried to glance away, he tucked his knuckles beneath her chin and tipped her head so there was no place else for her to look. “You need this. Someone to take care of you. Someone who can pull you out of your goddamn head for a minute. Show you how to let go.”

  Her lips trembled. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes. You do. You remember how you felt three seconds ago? I turned you into Jell-O without even taking off your clothes. Imagine how good it’ll be when I get you naked. You need that. Say it.”

  “No.”

  He felt like he’d been slapped. He’d been so sure.

  When her hand rose between them, he braced himself to be pushed away, scrambling for something else to say. Some other way to show her this was right. But before he could utter a word, light fingers pressed against his wrist. Her face was still in his hand.

  “I don’t need it,” she insisted. Her voice wavered. “But maybe . . . maybe I want it.”

  chapter FOUR

  What the hell was Lexie doing?

  Her entire life—and especially in the year and a half since everyone in her life had left her high and dry—she’d worked hard to maintain this image of herself as cold, calculating, and above all else indisputably in charge. She’d made mistakes, but those were in the past. She was the queen of her father’s empire, and she ruled over it, declining to let anyone peer behind the curtain.

  Until now.

  Why? At least when Jordan had seduced her, he’d put some effort into it. He’d wined her and dined her and come up with all sorts of excuses for them to spend time together. Sure, in hindsight, he’d been super creepy about it, nearly forty years old and luring in this girl who was barely out of college, but at least he’d done it with some finesse.

  That hadn’t been Dane’s tack at all. Everything he’d said so far tonight had been the truth. They’d been dancing around this simmering attraction since the moment they’d met. Time and again they toed the line, but she always pulled back before they could cross it, intent on taking the lessons she’d learned from her affair with Jordan to heart.

  Now he’d gone ahead and stepped right past.

  Some sort of switch had been flipped in Dane tonight, and she didn’t know how or by what. But all of a sudden, he’d decided he wanted an entirely different kind of dance. Instead of seducing her, he’d all but manhandled her, pulling her out of her comfort zone and her single-occupancy seat to put her here. In the center of a room. Exposed and pinned in by his body.

  And she loved it. That was the part that made the least sense of all. She’d never been left with any doubt that he would respect her wishes if she really made them clear, but his actions held this spark of aggression. Of control. Usually she liked to keep all of that for herself, both in her life and in the bedroom, but there was something about the way he put her where he wanted her. The way he took without asking. It filled her with heat too intense to name, made her brain go liquid and slow. But with every touch, the motor of her body revved into a gear she hadn’t even known it had. Her breasts and pussy ached with it, her skin humming for him to take more.

  She did want this. She wanted to let go.

  She just needed to know that she could do it safely.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she curled her fingers around his wrist. “Can you promise me you’ll stop if I ask you to?”

  “If you really mean it.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m not playing at that.”

  His jaw flexed, but after a second he relented. “Fine.”

  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. He’d more than proved himself in the months that they’d been working together. Still, there were things she needed to have spelled out. “And after. If we do this, I can’t promise you . . .”

  Anything, really. She was married to her work. Allowing the simmering tension between them to finally hit its boil was one thing, but here, in the heat of the moment, she couldn’t begin to anticipate how things would look tomorrow morning.

  “I understand.”

  “If there is more to this than just one time, it can’t affect your job.”

  He was asking her to give in, but outside this space, this enclosed cabin somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, she was still the boss. That was a nonnegotiable.

  “It won’t.”
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  He seemed sure enough. There was an edge to the way he said it, though. She wasn’t entirely sure she believed him.

  “I mean it,” she insisted.

  “I know. Now.” He twisted his wrist inside her grip to clasp her palm in his own. “If you’re done being bossy . . .”

  It probably shouldn’t have made her cheeky. “And if I’m not? You gonna take me over your knee?”

  “Don’t try me.”

  A shudder passed through her. His gaze had darkened. While she might have been being flippant, he was anything but.

  The idea a good old-fashioned porn-style spanking had never appealed to her, but suddenly the vision of laying herself out like that, naked and ass up, waiting for a blow . . . For him to call her naughty and take her to task . . .

  She swallowed hard, her pussy throbbing.

  “And what about you?” she asked. She kept her chin high, but she was trembling inside, ready to go to water beneath his touch. “What do you want?”

  “This.”

  Without another moment’s hesitation, he crushed his mouth to hers, stealing her breath and her goddamn sanity. Holy shit, the man could kiss. His teeth rasped over her lip, tongue stroking forward boldly. It was a claiming kiss, a dirty kiss, and her knees threatened to buckle beneath the power of it.

  How many times had she imagined what this might be like? There’d always been this secret, stealthy, almost leonine strength to Dane, but it was buried deep beneath layers of quiet competence and a willingness to take direction. He’d worn his role as her subordinate just fine, save the odd flashes. The sense that partway up the corporate ladder wasn’t exactly where a man like him belonged.

  And yet. She’d never anticipated this. If she had, would she have been able to stick to her guns for so long?

  Or would she have ever given in to him at all?

  “Stop,” he murmured, barely parting from her mouth.

  “What?”

  “Thinking.”

  She didn’t get the chance to ask a follow-up. With deft, strong hands, he found the zipper to her dress and yanked it down. The shock of cool air against her spine made her shiver into his warmth, into the hard plane of his chest and the circle of his arms, and he took her weight. Hot fingertips trailed along bare skin, dragging the fabric off her shoulders. When he leaned away, her dress fell down her body to lie in a pool at her feet. She moved to step out of it and out of her heels, but a grip like steel caught her hands.