by Tara Quan
With a muttered curse, he shifted his hold, looping one arm around her waist to hold her in place. His other hand drifted to her belly, reaching lower until it reached the point where their bodies met. He circled her clit, the contact sending an electric jolt through her core. Her muscles spasmed, her toes curling as the dual strokes propelled her toward a blazing euphoria.
Utter powerlessness. The heady rush of submission made each impalement easier than the one before. She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, held back a scream for as long as she could. Then awareness shattered, splintering her world into shards of silver.
Chapter Four
Kim woke in a cocoon of hard muscle and minty cologne. Joss’s thighs warmed her sore butt. His arms caged her shoulders. Squeezing her eyes shut, she snuggled closer, refusing to wake from the best dream in recent memory.
“Cute as this is, I’m bored. You’re awake. Entertain me.” Warm fingers patted her cheek. She grunted. Leave it to her subconscious to incorporate her cat’s wake-up routine into the dream.
A pair of knuckles squeezed her nose. With a gasp, she forced her lids to unstick. Tiger must be sitting on her face again.
Reality and fantasy realigned as she blinked away the cobwebs. Full consciousness accompanied an unsettling discovery. “Where the hell are my panties?”
“In a safe place.” Grabbing her shoulders, the man-sized feline forced her into a seated position. When her lids drooped, he shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth. “I should have guessed you’d conk out. Sex always makes you sleepy. But this time, you dozed longer than usual. My pecs started to fall asleep. I didn’t know they could.”
They sprawled in one corner of the interrogation room. Fluorescent light blazed from above, illuminating the handcuffs fastened to the table. She could see through the giant two-way mirror on the far wall. Spotting the empty rows of chairs on the other side, she hid her face in the crook of his arm. “Oh God. That didn’t just happen.”
“You’ve slept for”—he checked his wristwatch—“two hours or so. As I said, numb chest. Worth it though. You’re a lot prettier without dark circles under your eyes.”
The soreness between her legs an uncomfortable reminder of her recent lapse in judgment, she swallowed to soothe her parched throat. Not ready to discuss what they’d done or face the ramifications, she focused her attention on his jacket. “How can you wear a wool suit in Las Vegas?”
“I plan my day around air-conditioning. If there’s strenuous physical activity on the agenda, I try to make the ambient temperature close to freezing.” He pressed something cold and wet against the back of her neck. She turned her head to discover a bottle of Perrier. Someone must have delivered it while she was out.
“Which explains this ice box.” Yanking the fizzy water out of his grasp, she guzzled the icy liquid. Unflavored soda had no reason for existing, but thirst overruled her picky taste buds. “So you came knowing I’d let you fuck me.” It hurt her pride he’d deemed her a sure thing.
“I hoped missing me would throw you off balance.” He retrieved the half-empty bottle and placed it to their side. “That and threatening to steal the damn cat. And yes, from the moment we met, getting your panties off was always the simple part. Everything else is a shit ton more complicated.”
A way with words, the man had not. Too bad his brand of dominance chimed perfectly with her needs. “Yeah, I’m easy.”
“You’re the opposite of easy, pet. Taking care of you redefined difficult.” A grin creased his cheeks. “But I don’t mind. You’re worth it.”
She heaved a sigh. Staying mad suddenly became impossible.
With great effort, she rekindled her anger. “You lied to me. I’m not okay with it, although I should have guessed you weren’t some lackey.” In the posh surroundings of Boston’s underground BDSM club, Joss had commanded obedience with too much confidence, shirked the trappings of privilege with the callousness of a man who’d wanted for nothing. But she’d seen what she’d wanted to see, blinding herself to a truth so obvious the charade seemed laughable. “Personal assistant my ass.”
“As I said, you jump to the weirdest conclusions.” Lacing his fingers through her hair, he combed the tangled strands apart. “To be fair, my brother did consider me his personal assistant. He just never paid me. Come to think of it, the cash always flowed the other way round. By the time you’d caught on, you liked instant messaging me between classes too much to ask questions.”
“Fine. I don’t make friends easily, and I didn’t want to lose you.” She respected herself enough to admit it out loud. “But why pretend to be someone else?” Obscene wealth was an asset, not a handicap.
His icy mask cracked. “I got addicted to the way you look at me.”
She frowned. “What way?”
“As if I’m a person, not a name. Before telling you the truth, I wanted to become someone you could like.”
Traces of past pain furrowed his forehead. With trembling fingers, she smoothed out the grooves. “You’re already someone I like.” Someone she more than liked. “No matter what happens, you need to know that.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Still think you can run from this, do you?”
She had to. “When I do, I need you to remember it’s because of me.”
“God damn. I’m getting the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ speech.” He drew air quotes with his fingers. “It must be karma. Nice try, but there is a logical flaw to your breakup routine. You see, I decide how I feel about you. You decide how you feel about me. How one feels about oneself at no point factors into the equation.”
His argument made her dizzy. “Were you on the debate team or something?”
“Parliamentary and forensic. Trust me, you can’t win.” Behind his smug smile, she glimpsed something more—obstinate determination and absolute certainty.
Thrilled and terrified, she swallowed the lump in her throat. “We could get over each other if we tried.”
Imprisoning her with his arms, he trailed his nose down the line of her neck. “How’s that working out for you? On my end, every hot chick I see has your face. One look at your reflection, and bam—instant hard on. Our breather flopped.” He dipped his head lower, scattering kisses along her collarbones. “I’m glad it’s done.”
“No.” Her vision misted with pulses of crimson. She tried to summon an iota of reluctance. Her libido refused to play ball. “We’re not doing this again.”
He bit the sensitive spot between her shoulder and neck. “You don’t have a choice. I’m calling the shots.”
His confidence curled her toes. “What we had was less than a fling.” She poured what little willpower she had into the false words.
He squeezed her breast, the proprietary caress arching her back. “You’re going to pay for that lie with a lot more than a hard spanking.”
Arousal flared, potent and irresistible. “You have no right. I’m not your sub.” When he pinched her nipples, flashes of heat threatened to melt away thought. “But there’s a whole club full of women willing to play your games.”
“I’ve already chosen mine.” She writhed when his grip tightened. In her moment of distraction, he slid his hand under her skirt. With her underwear gone, he could shove his fingers inside her without preamble.
“Joss….” It hurt. In the best way.
He looped his other arm around her. Caught in a vise, she had little recourse beyond a whimpered protest. “I don’t want this.” But she did. Enough to erase the safe word from her vocabulary.
“Dishonesty seems to be a chronic problem.” He pressed down on her clit with his thumb and screwed his digits deeper into her. Her clenching inner muscles supported his observation. So did her uncontrollable spasms as his unyielding penetration vaulted her toward a crest.
She dug her nails into his forearms, a useless defense that only reinforced her helplessness. “Stop it.”
He ignored her resistance, playing her like an instrument
until sweat once more coated her skin. “Why? You’re more honest right after you come.”
He added a third finger, and the painful stretching proved too much. She firmed her lips, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of her cries. With her body imprisoned, his ruthless mastery fulfilled one of her darkest fantasies. He forced the orgasm on her, and she wanted it too badly to end their game.
Slumping against his chest, she watched him lick his fingers. God, she’d been easy. Twice in less than three hours.
“It would be my pleasure to keep this up until you tell me what the hell is going on. The truth, or I’ll drag you outside and show everyone how wet you are.”
Her head spinning from the aftermath of guilty ecstasy, she failed to stop the words from slipping out. “Damn it, Joss. Leave me alone. Go find someone who deserves you. I’m not worth your time”
“What?” The fact that he loosened his arms and allowed her to wiggle free was a testament to his shock. “Seriously?”
“It’s true.” Burning streaks leaked from the corners of her eyes. She had to push him away—for his own good. Scrambling to her feet, she raced to the door. The world spun. She’d gotten up too quickly.
Gripping the handle, she forced herself to remain upright. When she pulled, it refused to budge. “Let me the hell out.”
Stunned by Kim’s revelation, Joss followed her. He made a living off reading people. The skill worked best face-to-face, or he would have saved himself a trip to this hellhole of heat and never-ending crowds.
On the phone, she’d halfway convinced him she hated his guts. But this wasn’t about what he’d done or the hell his family had rained down on her. He had no clue what her problem was, but it had nothing to do with him.
An oppressive weight lifted off his shoulders. Stepping back to give her space, he lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and took stock of his advantages. He just dragged her through a physical and emotional whirlwind. Despite the nap, she was tired and sleep-deprived.
She couldn’t be thinking straight. He would bet his life on it.
If he wanted to ferret out the truth, the moment couldn’t be more perfect. “Take a breath. I’m nowhere near you.”
She pounded her palms on the door. “Let. Me. Out.”
“No. We need to talk. For real, this time.” Since she had yet to use the safe word, some part of her must agree.
Straightening her shoulders, she smoothed her skirt and whirled to face him. A pity. He rather enjoyed watching her butt cheeks as she vibrated with frustration.
“Fine. For real—we’re done. I can’t get over the past. It’s time we go our separate ways.”
With great difficulty, he forced his gaze away from the slight sheen between her thighs. Minutes before, her pussy had been milking his fingers, her lithe body writhing on his lap. Chest heaving and cheeks pink, his confused little sub embodied temptation. His dick insisted he shove her against the damn door and fuck her hard. After enough orgasms, she’d come around. She always did.
His brain advised an alternative approach. Whatever her issue was, sex hadn’t solved it. Time to switch tactics.
“Bullshit.” He crossed his arms. “You’ve forgiven me. You’re not even angry.”
“I’m plenty mad, you overconfident asshat.”
Clarity smacked him in the face. This wasn’t her pissed off face. It was her insecure face.
When he stepped forward, she scuttled back, her tiny feet shifting to a fighting stance. His boner reared painfully against his zipper. Few things turned him on as much as her scratching and biting. The games they played would make her hot and slick. But no matter how horny he got her, their size difference meant fucking could never be easy.
He’d never liked easy.
“You said I deserve someone better. Care to clarify?”
“No.” Her voice trembled. “Drop it.”
Something had happened the night she ran, something that spooked her so much she refused to stop. He wasn’t sure if even she knew the reasons behind her actions, but he planned on figuring them out ASAP. Especially if it meant tying her up and interrogating her for hours.
At the thought, more blood pooled to his groin. Zipping up had been a horrible decision.
Her gaze dropped to his crotch. “Don’t even think about it.” She pointed at the table. “That was the absolute last time we will have sex.”
“Then why do you keep glancing at the cuffs like you want an encore?” At the reminder of how red her ass had turned, of her delicious moans as he’d hammered into her, his boner grew to the point of extreme discomfort. One scene a night had never been enough. After months of abstinence, he could keep her under him all weekend and want more.
Reaching her side in a single lunge, he caught her chin and tipped her head back. “Can we skip to the part where you tell me what’s cooking in your oversized brain? My dick is about to explode.”
“Words to melt any girl’s panties,” she snapped. “Stop telling me what to do.”
He dropped a kiss on her stubborn nose. “But it turns you on. Instantly. As for the panties, the task’s already done.” He’d kept the scraps of pink lace as a souvenir, tucked inside his breast pocket. “The bra is a work in progress.”
“Why won’t you listen?” She stomped her foot. “You wasted a trip. You don’t want someone like me. You’re hot. You’re rich. And, very very very deep down, you’re a nice person. I’m none of those things. You can do better, and it’s only a matter of time before you realize it.”
Another slip. Good. For some reason, him crowding her threw her off balance. Beneath her bravado, he sensed fear. The real kind. “Careful sweetheart, you might destroy my courtroom cred. People say I’m a shark, and I like it that way. And you’re wrong on two out of three. You’re hot and nice—”
“No, I’m not nice. Why does everyone keep saying I’m fucking nice?”
He’d hit a nerve. At her death glare, he dropped the lighthearted pretense. “You’re ashamed.”
Judging from her gaping mouth, he’d hit the nail on the head. “All this time, you’ve been protecting me from yourself.” The idea refused to sink in. He was the one who’d screwed up. He was the one with enough baggage to sink a ship.
“What if I am?”
He gritted his teeth. His little darling was about to learn the repercussions of taking important decisions into her own misguided hands. Of all the people in this world, she had nothing to be ashamed about.
“You let me believe you hated my guts.” Try as he might, he couldn’t stop his voice from rising several decibels. “You told me to take a hike. All this, because you think you aren’t good enough for me?”
When he grabbed her shoulders, her expression went blank. Pivoting on one foot, she sliced her arm in the air and detached his grip. Sliding her palm along his forearm, she caught his wrist and twisted his hand in, while bending her knees to force him into a lock.
Good thing they’d taken the same martial arts classes. Anticipating her move, he broke free with a hard yank. Taking advantage of his longer legs, he circled her. When she spun, he caught her punch, intercepted her knee, before imprisoning her ankle and launching her back. She turned in time to hit the floor on her hands.
In the split second he hesitated, she kicked his legs out from under him. By the time his ass hit the floor, she’d straddled his waist, her arm bent and ready to strike. A blow to the neck or face would knock him out cold.
Her fist failed to land. Breaths coming in violent gasps, she stalled, and he watched mindless terror leak from her face. As he stared into her haunted eyes, he relived the night he’d raced to save her, only to find her on top of a disarmed assailant, the man’s oversized pistol in her tiny hands.
Panic had a death grip on his heart as he’d spotted the two bastards looming behind her, their weapons hovering in the freezing air, inches from her head.
“I would have pulled the trigger.” Her whispered confession hurled him to the present, and the
horror he glimpsed helped gather the final pieces of the puzzle together. “If you hadn’t showed up, I would have murdered a man.”
Though most likely the worst move, he dropped his head back. His shoulders shook. His diaphragm inflated enough to bounce her up and down.
“Are you laughing at me?”
With a fist hovering above his nose, testing her restraint might not be the wisest move. He caught her waist and reversed their positions, ignoring her high-pitched yelp as he pinned her wrists to either side of her head.
He tried to kiss her, but snapping teeth forced him to abort. “Yep. You’re such a goody-two-shoes, it’s ridiculous.”
She tried to free her arms, but she’d lost her chance to best him when she’d failed to land the final blow. Though quicker, faster, and better trained, she couldn’t win a pure match of strength. “I work at a BDSM club.” She wrinkled her nose. “I let you fuck me in front of an audience.”
“Which proves you’re a good girl with kinky tastes.” He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been beating yourself up because you could have killed the man hired to murder you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you help little old ladies cross the street.”
Her teeth clicked. Note to self—never vacation in retirement hotspots.
The woman needed a devil on her shoulder. Good thing he’d permanently carved room in his schedule to corrupt her. “So, you don’t think we should hang out anymore because you’re a horrible human being who would have shot someone in self-defense but stopped in the nick of time.” He tightened his grip. “Thanks for the sentiment, but perhaps you can let me handle the decision-making in this relationship going forward.”
“We’re not in a relationship.” When losing an argument, she always opted for redirection. Three, two, o— “And it’s not the only reason. There are tons of reasons. If you haven’t noticed, I can’t afford to shop at Neiman Marcus. I didn’t go to some fancy Ivy League school. In this economy, my job prospects aren’t rosy. On top of it all, I’m one step up from being a murderer. Trust me, you and I—it won’t work.”