How about…no.
She sent back a frowning emoji. He grinned and replied with a picture of flowers and a smiling face.
Right away, as if she’d had it queued up and waiting, she replied with a red devil.
He grinned as he responded.
You’re not helping your cause, princess.
She sent back an emoji that showed a smiley face that was blowing a kiss. Because he couldn’t stop thinking of her, he sent one more before eating.
When will you be here?
She didn’t answer right away. He hoped she was already on her way.
Pierce finished his meal then cleaned up the kitchen before grabbing all three sets of keys to move the vehicles like his mother had requested. He parked his at the farthest spot on the property, near the fence line. Far enough to be almost considered a neighboring city.
After the sedan was in the garage and the sports car outside beneath a light, he pulled out his phone. Ella still hadn’t responded.
It wasn’t until he was back inside that a ding signaled her message.
I don’t know. An hour. Maybe two.
In other words, she was stalling, and she wasn’t already on her way.
Drive safe. Let me know if you need anything.
With a frown, Pierce returned to the rental car to grab his belongings, including the garment bag he’d left hanging from the hook in the back. Avoiding his parents, he hung up all the keys then carried his beer upstairs to the guest bedroom.
As he showered, he imagined Ella in that dress, with no panties, a plug up her ass, marks on her legs—his marks—and her clit throbbing from her teasing.
He stroked his hard shaft a few times, but he stopped after thirty strokes, figuring he would endure the same torture he was putting her through.
Seconds later, teeth gritted against the incessant demand of his dick, he shut off the shower then vigorously dried himself with a towel.
He shaved then dressed before heading downstairs.
“What the hell?” His sister dropped a set of sketches on the kitchen counter. “I didn’t know you owned a suit.”
Until last week, he hadn’t. “I dress up all the time.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Have you noticed Dad behaving strangely?”
“More so than usual?” She shook her head.
“He seems secretive about his computer.”
“He was probably working and didn’t want Mom to know.”
“I asked if I could see it.”
“It’s a Bonds.”
As if that explained everything.
She shrugged. “You know Dad. He’s always working on something new. And he never tells anyone what he’s up to.”
Their mom had never complained, as long as there was money in the joint account.
Pierce fished a handful of nuts from a small glass bowl.
“Do you ever stop eating?”
“Worked out earlier.”
“I should have known.”
“What are you looking at?”
“Mom’s thinking of adding a pool and a guesthouse with a place to change downstairs and a small apartment upstairs.”
“Four thousand square feet isn’t enough?” He picked up the top sheet.
“It gives her something to focus on. And maybe she hopes you’ll come home more if you have a separate place to stay. I’m going to get changed.”
Fifi wandered into the kitchen and leaned against him. Fortunately, she didn’t get any hair, or fur, whatever it was, on him.
The doorbell rang. A cacophony of barks erupted, bouncing off walls. Sixteen paws scrabbled over the wooden floor as all four dogs dashed to the foyer.
“Traitor,” he muttered as Fifi dashed away.
After putting down the drawing, he wandered toward the door in time to see his mother glide down the staircase wearing a designer dress with pumps. Her pearls were as perfect as her smile.
The bell chimed again, reverberating as if they were in a cathedral.
Gerard held out a hand toward her. “Shall we, darling?”
She pressed her fingers to the palm of his hand, and they smiled at each other as if they were a happily married couple anticipating another glorious and successful thirty years.
His father opened the door.
Game on.
Chapter Six
Ella raised her hand to ring the doorbell of the Holdens’ house—more of a mansion than a home—then dropped it again to smooth her dress, pretending she wasn’t shaking.
More than once she’d been tempted to text Morgan and Pierce with an apology, saying she wouldn’t be in attendance. She’d rehearsed a dozen excuses, from a headache to a sprained muscle, to a forgotten commitment. But the truth was, she didn’t want to see Pierce.
Even though they hadn’t spent a lot of time together, she was already falling for him. That had to make her either mad or stupid. She’d had enough of military men.
What they had shared last night and this morning had been so much more than hot sex. He’d known what she needed and had given it to her. She’d had an emotional connection with him that undid her. Raw need for him made her shove rational objections into a deep dark dungeon. It was as if her inner devil had locked the door and tossed the key over her shoulder with a satisfied wink.
But every time she’d picked up the phone to make her excuses, there’d been a message from him, and her resolve had crumbled.
As she’d slid into the dress he’d selected and struggled to get the damn plug up her ass, she’d accepted that she wanted what he was offering…the teasing, the orgasms, the sensual, trusting dynamic.
And, at least for today, her desire outweighed the inevitable pain she’d experience tomorrow.
Before doubt crawled through her mind yet again, she pressed the doorbell.
Barks exploded behind the door.
Too late now.
She curled both hands into a death grip around her clutch.
Mr. and Mrs. Holden opened the door, and Walter pushed through the opening to jump up on her.
“Down!” Mrs. Holden shrieked.
Walter didn’t even look at his owner.
All her tension gone, Ella scratched him behind the ears. Nothing soothed like Walter’s demonstrative, unconditional love.
“He never behaves like that with anyone but you.” Laurel Holden shook her head. “Be a dear and don’t encourage him, Ella.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Holden.”
Laurel grabbed the dog’s collar and tugged him back. “If you make me ruin my manicure, you naughty, naughty boy…”
Ella petted all the dogs, ending with Fifi—well, the one she assumed was Fifi since she patiently waited her turn.
“Come in out of the heat.” Gerard allowed his wife to struggle with the animals while he held the door open farther. “You could put up the childproof gates, Laurel.”
“They will go mad if we close them off from our company.”
“Better them than me.” He smiled big.
“Did you say something?” Laurel turned big, unblinking eyes toward him.
Gerard closed the door. “Nothing at all, dear.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Ella looked away so the couple didn’t see her grin.
“You’re welcome to put your purse on the bench,” Laurel said.
The bench was a stunning, custom-carved piece that dominated the entryway, built into the wall with a row of hooks above a long, thin mirror.
“There’s a bar outside,” the woman continued. “And we’ll begin serving food in about…”
Responding to the prompt, Gerard checked his watch. “Half an hour.”
“Morgan’s here somewhere.”
As was Pierce.
Nerves turned her stomach inside out.
Just the thought of being the focus of his attention made rational thought impossible.
The doorbell resounded once more and the dogs again exploded in frenzied barks. Ella ex
cused herself. She placed her purse on the bench then pulled back her shoulders in a fake sign of poise.
Knowing a glass of wine would help her relax, she walked through the house toward the back door.
She thought she was prepared to see Pierce. But the sight of him, near the fireplace, made her heart stop. She paused, her gaze riveted on him.
He wore a fitted dark-gray suit with a silver tie and snowy-white shirt. Ella wouldn’t have believed it was possible for him to look any more devastating than he had in denim, but he did.
His slender but muscular body was spectacular and irresistible in the tailored silk. She wondered if the suit was stage three of his plan to fuck her senseless this evening.
As if sensing her, he turned away from the man he was conversing with.
His gaze found hers.
Even across the room, his arresting blue eyes blazed with intensity. A slow smile sauntered across his mouth, and sexual heat poured through her, notching up from simmer to a slow boil.
He perused her and a slow smile slid across his face. No doubt he was wondering if she’d inserted the plug and skipped the panties as he’d instructed.
Every noise in the room amplified in her ears as her nerves slammed into hyperawareness, fueling her need to escape.
Knowing he’d seek her out soon, she exited through the French doors onto the patio.
The temperature already hovered near ninety degrees, and numerous large, colorful umbrellas had been opened.
She ordered a glass of chardonnay from the bartender then headed toward the water feature that Mrs. Holden had installed last year, a stunning waterfall and pond. An aspen tree provided some shade, and she took a fortifying sip of the wine.
“So. Did you go home with him?”
At the sound of Morgan’s voice, Ella spun. “What?” She glanced around the Holdens’ patio, hoping none of the anniversary party guests had overheard her friend and praying that no one knew she and Pierce had spent the night together.
Morgan clamped her arm on Ella’s elbow and dragged her closer to the waterfall for privacy. A small brown sparrow that had been splashing on top of a rock shook its wings then took flight.
“Details.” Morgan kept her grip tight, as if afraid Ella would try to run away. “All of them.”
“About…?”
“What happened last night after I left the bar?”
Ella’s pulse picked up as she scrambled to find an answer that would appease her friend.
“You know what I’m talking about.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “Randall.”
Randall. So Pierce hadn’t said anything. In relief, Ella exhaled. “There are none. I didn’t go home with him.”
“Thank God. I was worried about you. He gives me the heebies.” Morgan shuddered with exaggerated movements.
Ella grinned. Though she hadn’t been captivated with him, she’d been looking at him through a realistic lens, inventorying faults as well as strong points, trying to ascertain whether he was a man she would want to date and perhaps spend her life with. He might have been egocentric, but so were a lot of men she interacted with at the country club. It didn’t mean they were bad guys. “What don’t you like about him?”
“He didn’t honor a sub’s safe word at a BDSM play party.”
The voice, masculine, calm, familiar, made desire arrow through her.
Pasting on a false smile, the one she wore almost all day, every day during the work week, she turned to face Pierce. She inhaled his crisp scent and memories crashed through her. Bravado fled, and her knees threatened to buckle.
“Ignore my big brother,” Morgan apologized. “He says inappropriate things.”
If Morgan had any idea…
“Ella.” He extended a hand.
Having no choice, unless she wanted to make Morgan suspicious, Ella shook his hand. He held hers for too long, squeezed, but not too hard, just a reminder of how well he knew her and what they’d shared.
“I’m glad you could be here.”
Since he didn’t let her go, she tugged away from his grip. “I wouldn’t have missed it.” The lie fell from her mouth. Her voice hadn’t wavered and betrayed her inner emotions.
“Is that true about Randall?” Morgan asked him. “I’ve heard things about him from some of my friends, but that’s not one of them.”
“It happened.”
“Ick.” Then Morgan propped her hands on her hips “Wait.” With a fierce scowl, she demanded, “How do you know it’s not just a rumor?”
“I was there.”
“What?” Morgan screeched. “What were you doing at a BDSM club, anyway? And Randall is a Dom?”
“No. He’s a fake. That makes him a menace.”
“Hold on a minute.” She narrowed her eyes. “Which club are we talking about? One in Denver?”
“None of your business, little sis.”
“I need details, Pierce. And I mean it.”
“What do you know about BDSM clubs?” He raised his eyebrows.
Ella took a drink of wine to hide her smirk.
“Mom’s waving at you.”
“Again?” Morgan sighed, glancing toward the tent where Laurel was standing next to the caterer.
“I think she wants another mimosa. Or something.”
“Oh. God. I’ll be right back.”
“That was mean.” Ella frowned at Pierce when Morgan strode off, steps certain over the uneven flagstone surface. “Your mom wasn’t even looking this direction.”
The smile on his face was unrepentant. “She’s going to need something sooner or later.”
“Still—”
“I wanted to be alone with you.” He took a step toward her, crowding her space.
Tension unfurled in her, triggering the fight or flight instinct. She did neither. Instead, she froze.
Everything about this man fascinated her.
While she’d been at home, she’d told herself she could, would, resist him. But when he stood scant inches away, and they breathed the same air, her intention was crushed.
“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again since I left your house.”
“Planning your strategy is more like it.” She kept her words light, hoping to wedge some emotional distance between them.
“Yeah.” He raised one shoulder. “It might be time to move into stage three of Operation Fuck Ella Senseless at the Party.”
“Wait.” She pretended to be a woman in control, someone accustomed to this kind of raunchy flirtation. “What was stage two?”
“Saying sexy things. Reminding you who your Dom is.”
“Do you behave this way with all the women you pursue?”
“I don’t pursue women. Or I didn’t…until you.”
“Are you saying—?”
“That you’re different? That I’m different when I’m with you? That I’ve never experienced anything like this before?”
She waited.
“Yeah. All of those things.”
Ella couldn’t breathe. This man. Every word was well chosen and perfect, further eroding her resistance to him.
“You look beautiful, Ella. As I knew you would.”
When he spoke, he studied her, sealing the connection of their gazes, as if there were no other person on the planet who interested him.
“The dress…”
He’d made an excellent choice, she had to admit. It flowed nicely, but it was fitted enough that the gentle breeze didn’t lift it.
Before she’d left the house, she’d raised the hem and looked in the mirror. It had taken some contortions to see over her shoulder and angle her head so she could ascertain whether he’d left a stripe on her skin. He had. One.
“And did you wear panties?”
Stage two, say sexy things. Even though she knew what he was doing, the strategy still worked. Her pulse became thready. Ella knew she’d reacted as he’d intended. “I skipped them.”
He sucked in a breath. “And the plug?”
&nbs
p; Distracting her, Walter dashed through the open French doors and headed toward her. He angled his tall, strong body between her and Pierce, as if trying to protect her. “Hello, Walter. Have you come to say hello again?”
She swore he gave her a doggy grin. Walter plonked himself down, one of his legs on her foot, as if he were a prince and had every right to sit wherever he liked. Ella placed her glass on one of the waterfall’s rocks and scratched him behind an ear. “I think he’s protecting me.”
“It will take more than a dog to keep me away from you.” Pierce’s smile was feral. She shivered. “About the plug, Ella…did you follow my order?”
She took a breath. When he used that tone—command, wrapped in a sensual huskiness—she was undone. “I did.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, Sir,” she amended. As she said the words, something inside her shifted. Her voice became softer. She wanted to please, to surrender. Her reaction to him was as much physical as it was emotional.
She met his gaze. The approval and longing there made her glad she hadn’t disappointed him. “I inserted the plug.” Another in a long line of firsts for her with this man. Being both bare and stuffed for him was exhilarating. The way he pushed her past her inhibitions was liberating. And each time she did something new, it undermined her determination not to fall for him. Then she shocked herself by adding, “And I re-waxed my pussy, as well, Sir.”
“Fuck.” He uncapped a water bottle and took a long drink.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked, Staff Sergeant?” Stage two, Sir. Say sexy things. She just had no idea how difficult it was to be bold this way. Teasing him turned her on.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Am I?” Maybe she was. Since they had such a short time together, it was worth it.
“You already know I intend to fuck you.”
“And I’ve already said not that’s not going to happen.” She picked up her wine, and Walter nuzzled her free hand.
When Pierce spoke, his tone vibrated with a deep, soft rasp. “Did you stroke your clit?”
When she’d first read the text, she’d thought her phone might start to sizzle from the heat of his words. “I did. Sir.”
Enticement (Master Class Book 2) Page 11