I Brake For Bad Boys

by Foster, Lori

  But even with him practically kneeling, he was so big she still felt surrounded—by his strength, his scent, his blazing intent, which one and all could easily see given the way he devoured her with his eyes.

  He braced one hand on the back of her chair so that his hot wrist touched her nape, sending tingles down her spine. His biceps, already impressive enough, bulged even more. His other hand clasped the edge of her seat, causing his fingertips to brush up against her hip.

  She started to lean back to escape some of that overwhelming masculinity. The smile that Becky and Asia had just warned her about suddenly tilted his sensual mouth. Erica halted, then forced herself to relax. Or at least, pretend to relax. With him practically in her lap, his face level with her breasts, she felt so wired she couldn’t draw a breath.

  He swiveled his head toward her friends, finally releasing Erica from that piercing gaze. Everything inside her went liquid with relief, even her backbone. She had a hell of a time staying upright in her seat.

  “Ladies,” he murmured by way of greeting.

  And her friends, both mute ninnies, just gaped back at him.

  His smile widened, looking more like a crooked grin. “Now don’t be embarrassed,” he chastised in a gravel-rough voice. “It’s okay that you were talking about me. I’m sure you just wanted to reassure Erica, right?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, their heads bobbed comically.

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He pinned Erica in place again. “Not that you need reassurance, do you, Erica?”

  Where had her voice gone? It took her a painful three seconds to find it, and that annoyed her enough that her natural self-confidence returned. “Of course not. As my personal slave, you’ll do anything and everything I say. Isn’t that right?”

  Very gently, he asked, “Do you really think so?”

  Her back stiffened, in alarm, in dread—maybe a little in relief. “Are you telling me you’ve changed your mind? Are you backing out now?”

  He looked at her mouth . . . and looked some more. A little unsettled, Erica squirmed. They were all so quiet, she thought she could hear Becky and Asia breathing; she knew she could hear the erratic knocking of her heartbeat against her breastbone.

  Finally, Ian broke the nerve-stretching tension. “Naturally not.” He came to his feet with an amazing fluid grace considering his size. Then he touched her chin. “One warning, though. Be very careful what you instigate because you never know how it might turn against you.”

  Damn him! Insults and more threats. She would not put up with it.

  Erica surged to her feet too—a ludicrous affectation since she only reached his shoulder. But she did poke him in the chest, and found out he was so hard she nearly broke her finger. Wincing, she said, “Quit trying to intimidate me, Ian Conrad, or I’m liable to just call the whole thing off.”

  He grinned, caught her finger, and cradled it to his chest in a manner that felt oddly protective. “But I don’t intimidate you, isn’t that right?”

  Still staring at her slender hand caught up against that broad granite chest, she blinked. “What?”

  He took a step closer to her, forcing her to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “I refuse to believe you’d back out on me now just because of a little uncertainty. After all, Asia and Becky went through with it and survived just fine.”

  After holding silent for the whole damn visit, her friends started sputtering over having their sorry butts dragged into the conversation. Ian spared them an apologetic glance, saying, “Ladies, it’s hardly a secret,” then continued to Erica, “Trust me, you’re woman enough, and you’re definitely ballsy and brazen enough, to do what they’ve done. Isn’t that right?”

  He’d challenged her, the rat. Erica slanted her eyes and gifted him with her own small secret smile. “You betcha. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  He didn’t seem the least put off by her inference. He even nodded in satisfaction. “Perfect.” He glanced at the silver watch on his thick wrist. “Four more hours, then I’ll see you at Wild Honey. We’ll pick up a few things before we head to my place.”

  “Your place?” She raised a brow, a little amazed at his authoritative manner considering he’d agreed to be her slave. “Did I say I wanted to go to your place, Ian?”

  “No, but you did specify that we’d meet right after work and since one thing after another has broken down today, I’m sweatier than usual. I’ll have to shower.”

  “Maybe I’ll let you shower at my place.”

  He smiled at her taunting way of saying maybe. “I’m not going to wallow in my own sweat all day, not even for you, so forget it. Besides, if we’re at my place you can walk out whenever you decide you’ve . . . had enough.”

  Another challenge, as if she’d be the one to cry uncle. Her teeth clicked together even as she managed another not-so-sweet smile. “I can always just order you to leave.”

  That actually made him laugh and the sound of his humor was so unexpected, so deep and masculine, it gave her a small thrill. Her toes curled inside her shoes, but not by so much as a twitch did she give herself away.

  When he saw her facade of disgruntlement, he laughed some more. Erica tapped her foot on the floor, waiting for him to get over his chuckles. Finally he wiped his eyes, but his grin remained as he said, “Order me to leave, huh?” and then, with a touch to the tip of her nose, “I suppose you can always try. In fact, I think I’d enjoy that.”

  And once again, he turned his back on her.

  Erica stood there while he saluted Becky and Asia, who mumbled farewells, then she watched him leave the lounge. Every woman he passed visually noted his progress with sly, covetous intent. The men just got out of his way.

  “Oh, my.”

  “Good Lord.”

  Erica didn’t want to look at her friends because she knew what they were thinking, even before their muttered exclamations. She was thinking it, too. The difference was that her heart pounded and her body felt tight and hot, and it wasn’t all because of apprehension. Ian’s forceful nature scared her a little—and excited her a lot.

  “Erica, sit down before you drop.”

  Becky added in a whisper, “She does look dazed, doesn’t she?”

  Erica shook herself. She had a reputation to maintain. “Dazed? Don’t be silly. He’s just a man.” She sank into her seat and pretended her knees weren’t shaking and her skin wasn’t flushed.

  “There’s no just to it,” Asia said. “Whatever he’s got, he’s got it in spades. I’d be very, very careful if I were you.”

  Becky mumbled, “If I were her, I’d hide.”

  Laughing, Erica propped her head on her hand and considered the situation. She’d be walking a fine line between maintaining control and enjoying him for the man he was and what he made her feel. Eventually, she’d let him drive her wild with his dictatorial ways. But first, she’d show him a thing or two about control, about women, and about Erica Lee.

  For a man like Ian, being a slave could prove a formidable task. Already she imagined the things she’d tell him to do, things that would excite him—but keep him from satisfaction. It’d be frustrating for her too, but at least she’d prove her point.

  Who she’d be proving it to, she wasn’t sure yet.

  Thanks to a last minute snafu with an ancient air-conditioning unit, Ian found himself behind schedule. Only five minutes late, but he’d been looking forward to this all day, and he just knew Erica would try to give him hell about it. Thinking of the way her eyes burned green fire whenever she got riled, he grinned.

  A few seconds later he strode into Wild Honey. He maintained a steady pace, but he didn’t allow himself to rush. Given half a chance, Erica would have him wrapped around her little finger and no way would he allow that. He barely glanced up as he passed the checkout counter and the tables of books and magazines.

  Erica wouldn’t be loitering in the front of the store. No, the little witch would be in one of the fetish se
ctions—and he knew exactly which one.

  He found her standing in front of an aisle of domination wear, fingering a heavy leather dog collar with silver studs. Knowing her thoughts, he stepped up silently behind her and growled low, “Unless you want to end up wearing that thing, I’d suggest you put it back down.”

  She’d been so lost in thought her whole body jerked with his first words. “Damn it,” she snapped even before whirling around to face him. The leather collar was gripped tight in her hand. “Can’t you ever make a normal entrance?”

  In contrast to her near shout, Ian’s words were calm and quiet. “Into a porn shop? What would you consider normal?”

  She scowled, then mumbled, “For such a big guy, you’re awfully good at sneaking around.”

  “Next time I’ll clear my throat.” He deliberately made his tone patronizing enough that she couldn’t possibly let it pass.

  She didn’t. Her brows drew down, her eyes glittered with annoyance, her mouth opened—and Ian leaned down and kissed her.

  They were in the middle of a porn shop with a few customers milling around, but that didn’t stop him. At the moment, a tornado couldn’t have stopped him.

  He’d thought about tasting her all day.

  On the most basic level, her innate sexuality called out to him. Because he was a big man and could easily cause harm with his physical strength, he’d learned early on to control his reactions in all things. He kept an iron grip on his anger with men, and he tempered his sexual drive with women.

  But with Erica, he had a feeling he could let loose in every way and she’d handle it—and him—just fine.

  Focused on that fact, he curved his hands around her neck and used his thumbs to tip up her chin. Her eyes widened just before he took her mouth the way he’d wanted to take it since first meeting her.

  A small, very feminine sound escaped her and a heartbeat later she went soft and warm. He watched her thick black lashes drift shut, felt her hands curve against his chest. The hard leather of the collar she still held dug into his left pectoral muscle.

  Her lips were full and soft and opened more to allow the slide of his tongue. There was no gentle prelude, no tentative exploration. In so many ways, he’d been thinking of Erica as his since the moment he’d learned what she and her friends had planned. The reality of having her here now, soon to be his in fact as well as fantasy, was almost more than he could survive.

  He kissed her deeply, loving the hot, damp taste of her mouth, the way she kissed him back, her expertise. The sound of their accelerated breathing echoed in his ears. Damn, he was a hair away from losing it.

  He pulled back the tiniest bit, saw the excitement and reciprocal urgency on her face, and kissed her again.

  The collar dropped to the floor.

  Because they weren’t alone and he didn’t want her to suffer any regrets, he eased away, releasing her slowly, pressing small damp kisses to her chin, her cheek, her throat. “This way,” he murmured, and carefully stepped her around the forgotten collar.

  With a naturalness that normally came from long association, she nestled into his side. He kept his arm around her, his hand curving over her shoulder. In his opinion, she fit against him perfectly.

  For the moment, she seemed docile enough.

  A smile tugged at his mouth, but he resisted it. If he laughed now, Erica would not only go back for the collar, but probably a leash as well.

  “What are we doing?” she asked when he stepped up to the back counter where an array of oils, exotic scents, and lotions were displayed.

  “Making a few purchases.”

  “But I haven’t decided what I want yet.”

  He knew what he wanted, so again, he smothered his satisfied grin. “It’s your day, right?”

  Wearing a suspicious frown, she nodded.

  “So I figured I should pamper you.”

  One brow rose. “Pamper me how exactly?”

  “How’s dinner, a massage, and a long bubble bath sound?”

  “Like heaven, but what’s that got to do with sex?”

  He almost said, You’re kidding, right? but then he saw she was serious. Damn, but she must have been with a bunch of losers if she didn’t understand the pleasure in setting the mood and indulging in extensive foreplay.

  He gave her his own frown while carefully deciding how to word his answer. “Sex is best when both people are totally into it. I want you to be as comfortable and satisfied as possible. We’re getting together during dinnertime, so I want to feed you. You’ve worked hard all day, so I want to relax you. Anything sexual you want, anywhere along the way, you just say so and believe me I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”

  “You think so, do you?”

  More bluster. He’d taken her by surprise, so naturally she got defensive. It was odd, but as often as not, Erica touched his heart as much as his libido.

  He stroked his hands over her glossy black hair and lowered his voice more. “Erica, there isn’t anything you can ask me to do to you or for you that I won’t enjoy. I thought you already knew how much I want you.”

  The signs of arousal were easy to see on her face; the color in her cheeks, her expanded pupils, her parted lips. Still, the words from her mouth weren’t encouraging.

  “And if I want to watch you squirm? If I want to see how you deal with waiting?”

  If he didn’t know her so well, Ian might have been duped. But he did know her and the little darling wanted him, she just wanted to see how far she could push. Well, two could play that game—but only one would win, and he already knew when the night was over, Erica would be his.

  He touched her mouth with his thumb. “I’ve been waiting months already. I can survive a few more days.” Turning away, he picked up a small decorative bottle of massage oil. The label claimed properties that would leave your skin tingling and your nerve endings alive. Erica was such a sexy little thing, he doubted he’d need the oil, but maybe . . .

  Erica snatched it out of his hand. “What do you mean you’ve been waiting months?”

  Except for one quick, questioning glance, he kept his back to her. “The day I first saw you, I wanted you. There hasn’t been a minute since that I haven’t wanted you.” He fingered a massage mitt—some fuzzy contraption far too small for his hand—then moved on to the bubble bath. He could feel Erica standing just behind him, befuddled, annoyed, brimming with nervous uncertainty that she’d do her best to hide.

  He gave her half a minute to mentally chew on what he’d said before facing her again. When he stared down at her, she met and held his gaze by sheer force of will. She had guts, his Erica, and he admired her more every moment he spent with her. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever stop.”

  She swallowed. “Stop?”

  “Wanting you.” Then he shrugged, dismissing the moment of heavy sexual tension and again turning back to the products. “But we’ll work that out this weekend.” He handed her the bubble bath.

  She accepted it automatically. “Work what out?”

  “How we really feel about each other.”

  “Bu-but that’s absurd!”

  “Stammering?” He draped his arm around her again and headed them both toward the checkout. “Not at all. I like you a lot, but it’s hard to say how much when all I can usually think about is getting inside you.”

  She stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her.

  “Wait a minute.” Annoyed, she tried digging in her heels.

  He kept walking, sweeping her along with him. “I have only so much patience, honey.”

  “But . . . what is this about a weekend? We’re getting together for one night and one night only.”

  He snorted, but otherwise kept his thoughts to himself. She sounded panicked enough without him telling her why he needed a whole weekend. One way or another, he’d convince her, once he got her alone.

  “Damn it, Ian, I am not committing the whole weekend to you.”

  She could really dent his
ego if he let her. Not that he would. He said only, “Why not? I figure it’ll take me at least that long just to get used to seeing you in my place.”

  “Yeah?” Like a dog on a bone, she jumped on that. “Well if you don’t want me there, then . . .”

  “Oh, I want you there all right.”

  “Blast it, Ian.” She jerked to a halt, forcing him to do the same.

  “What’s wrong now?”

  In typical Erica fashion, she tossed her head, sending her silky mane of hair to fall behind her shoulders. “You keep throwing out these obscure comments in between insulting me and threatening me.” Her nose lifted. “I don’t know that I want to spend a whole weekend with you.”

  Ian took in the sight of her, from the determined tilt of her head to the bold fighter’s stance. “Look at it this way,” he whispered, “there’s a whole lot of bossing around you can do in two and half days. We both know you’ll enjoy that.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “Wanna bet?” He had her flustered, not that he minded. Gently, he relieved her of the oil and bubble bath. She stayed there in the center aisle while he paid for their purchases. With the bagged items in one hand, he again drew her close and led her out the door.

  The late afternoon sunshine glinted off her hair, highlighting the blue-black depths. When he started to lead her to his car, she again balked. “I have my car with me.”

  “I thought we’d ride together.”

  “No way. You said it yourself—I should be able to leave when I want to.”

  She had him there. “All right. Would you like to follow me to my place, then?”

  “Do you need to stop for groceries?”

  Shaking his head, Ian said, “No. I have everything I need already at my apartment.”

  She looked skeptical, but didn’t cavil. “All right. I am curious to try out these culinary skills of yours.”

  “I promise you won’t be disappointed—in anything.” Silently, they walked to her car across the scorching pavement. Ian waited while she unlocked the door and rolled down the window to let in fresh air, then he said, “Erica?”