You're Tops

by Sydney St. Claire

  He seized a sheet floating toward him. Several others drifted to the lawn. One landed in the pool. He headed across the yard and just happened to glance at the paper in his hand. He came to a sudden stop, nearly tripping over his jaw as it hit the ground.

  Lisa wiggled her ass as Jake spanked her once, twice, three times. Each slap stung and burned. Yet it felt good, igniting the lust deep inside her. His finger slid into her slick pussy. She moaned. “Yes, Jake. More.”

  “Well, fuck me.” His neighbor was writing smut. Good god, he was reading his own fantasy of Regina restrained on his spanking bench, his palms circling her gloriously round ass cheeks. In his dreams, she quivered as she anticipated that first smack. He could almost smell her arousal, see her wet, swollen pussy, and shit, he could feel the walls of her pussy contracting around his cock as he plunged in to claim what he wanted and knew he’d never have.

  His heart rate shot up into the stratosphere, and blood pooled between his legs. He snagged another sheet. Jake fucking a sub named Sally this time.

  “Say you’re mine, pet. Mind to do whatever I want.” Jake thrust his cock into her pussy.

  “I’m yours, Jake. Fuck me. Hard and fast. Please.” Sally tried to yank her hands free, but Jake had cuffed her wrists to his headboard and her ankles were restrained as well, leaving her spread open and ready. And all his.

  “Oh, man.” There was his second fantasy. Gina. Cuffed. To his bed. Him fucking her until she begged for him to let her come, him keeping her at the peak but not letting her reach release until she screamed his name.

  “Tucker?”

  He blinked back to awareness with a start. Holy shit, so deeply immersed in his fantasy, he hadn’t heard her come through his gate and into the backyard. He swung his head around. Regina’s face was as red as her hair, she was chewing on her lower lip, and her gaze was fastened on the sheets of paper in his hands.

  “Lose something, pet?”

  If possible, her color brightened. “Oh, my god, you’re not reading that, are you?” She rushed forward.

  “Can’t help it when the words just jump out at me.” He scanned the third sheet, and he allowed his eyes to pop wide open. This time, he read the passage aloud.

  “Jake groaned when Melissa opened her mouth and sucked his cock hard and deep. The squeezing of her throat tore a string of fucks from him. His balls shot up into his throat. He shook with need. Sweat ran down the center of his back and pooled at the base of his spine. He groaned when he yanked his cock from her mouth.

  “Again,” Jake demanded. And with a shout of triumph, he thrust his cock deep and shouted her name as cum shot from his dick.”

  Regina snatched the pages from his hand. “That blast of wind came out of nowhere.” She glanced everywhere but at him.

  Tucker wanted to pick her up, sling her over his shoulder, and carry her into his playroom. Or point to the ground and order his submissive to suck his cock. He yearned to see her full lips close over his dick, watch her head bob up and down, and feel her hands on his thighs and cupping his balls, squeezing lightly.

  His voice wasn’t quite steady when he spoke. “I knew you were a writer, but I had no idea you wrote BDSM stuff.” Did she do more than just write about the lifestyle?

  Flustered, Regina wrinkled her nose. “It’s called erotica, and it’s all part of the romance genre. Thank you for your help. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

  “You can disturb me any time, Gina.” He leaned on the partially complete deck rail. “Do you play?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Huh?”

  “Are you Dominant or submissive?”

  She flushed but rolled her eyes. “No, and neither. I’m just a writer.”

  Tucker lifted a brow. “How about hands-on research?”

  Regina crossed her arms across her chest, thrust out one hip, and tapped her foot impatiently. “Would you ask a mystery or horror writer how many people they’ve killed as part of their research to make their stories authentic?”

  He nearly choked at her indignant reply. “Good point.”

  Fire sparked deep in those clear, green eyes, reminding him how easily she’d lost her temper as a child and how much he’d driven her to do so. He’d always thought her pretty or cute but admitted when angry, she was downright beautiful and irresistible. She’d also been too young for him and out of his reach not living but a few weeks a year with his father, so he’d been meaner than need be to keep her distant.

  “Thank you. People tend to make stupid remarks about romance writers and their research.”

  “Perhaps because sex is so personal and we’re all voyeuristic when it comes to what goes on behind closed doors. So what’s the title of your book?” He kept her talking, not wanting her to leave, which was a big mistake on his part. What part of off men didn’t he understand?

  “No clue,” she sighed. “Right now, there isn’t even much of a book. I’m about to toss it all into the garbage and start over.”

  He lifted a brow. “What I read seemed good.” Good hell, he’d be lucky to hid his erection from her or have any hope at all of sleeping tonight.

  Regina shook her head, fisted her hands, and balled up the sheets. “No. It’s not, but it’s kind of you to say so. I can’t believe I told my editor I could do this. I don’t know anything about BDSM or the lifestyle other than what I’ve found on-line.” She sighed. “I think I actually do need to do more research.”

  Research? Oh yeah, he could help her with that. “You haven’t visited a dungeon or a BDSM club? Or talked to any real Doms?”

  “No. There aren’t any clubs around here, and besides, I’m not so sure I’d be brave enough to go into one anyway. Can you see me going up to strange men to ask if they are Doms and if so, could they help me with my research.” She rolled her eyes. “That would bring out all the crazies.”

  The thought of her seeking help from a stranger didn’t sit well with him. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I can help you out.” Fuck, did he really just volunteer to help her?

  Regina laughed. “I bet. Remember our earlier conversation? Don’t need to kill to write about murder?”

  “Ah, pet, this is different. The relationship between a Dom and sub is about more than sex. Come with me. Got something I want to show you.” He hopped onto the deck and held out his hand.

  Chapter Two

  Regina couldn’t tear her gaze from the lagoon-blues of Tucker’s cat-like exotic eyes. The way he’d drawled the word pet in that deep, rich baritone sent fingers of lust writhing from the top of her head to her curled toes. His voice was every bit as sexy and powerful as her fictional character’s. Of course, Jake was Tucker, but she admitted, if given years to do so, she couldn’t do this man justice on paper. His mane of black hair gleamed with a bluish tint.

  Panther. The image padded across her mind. Tucker reminded her of a jungle cat with his broody, serious manner, muscular build, and the air of wildness and danger that surrounded him like a second skin. Like a hunter intent on its prey, his eyes never wavered from hers.

  Lowering her gaze to his yummy chest, she longed to stroke her hands over his body, slide her fingers through that mat of dark hair, and make him purr. Or better, let him make her purr. Moisture dribbled onto her panties. Shit. Knock it off. Say goodbye, go home to sanity and reason.

  “Tucker Owen, get sex off the mind. I’ve got work to do and so do you.” And she needed to follow her own advice, but oh, wait, she was writing sex. Very hot, explicit sex. Writing, not engaging, so turn around and go. Self-preservation screamed run.

  But his burning-blue eyes rooted her to the spot. His lips, full, soft, and sexy as hell, curved, and she felt like a deer caught in headlights. Lost in her writer’s imagination and womanly lust, she squeaked when he boldly lifted her onto the deck, his arm around her waist as he urged her toward the door. “Not taking you to my bedroom, not that I wouldn’t mind that. You said you needed research so you might find what I have to show you useful.”r />
  She stepped into the cool comfort of the house, out of his arms, and away from his warm, spicy, earthy scent, a combination of manly sweat, sunshine, and musk, before she jumped him like a feline in heat. Why couldn’t he be runt-skinny, pale, and uninteresting, maybe an accountant named Boring Bob instead of a handsome firefighter hunk? Since his return, her body had awakened to possibilities and hummed with desire, making her avoid him as much as possible, including refusing him every time he asked her out.

  “Down the hall.” He pointed toward the front of the house.

  “What? You got a spanking bench hidden away in your living room.” She tried for humor.

  He grinned, nice and slow, showing even, white teeth, and ran a finger down the center of her nose as he used to do when she’d been younger. “Only one way to find out.”

  Her breathing accelerated. That voice, combined with his nearness, his smile, and good god, the look in his eyes sent a jolt of pure lust screaming into her center and flaring up into her clit. That fast, her panties went from damp to drenched.

  Off men, Regina. Career. Remember? Focus on the writing. Trouble was, the writing wasn’t happening, and what she wanted to happen right now involved Tucker inserting tab C into slit P. And that was a bad idea. B. A. D.

  “Trust me, Gina.”

  Tuckers voice crawled through her veins like warmed honey. She didn’t dare admit she didn’t trust herself to be alone with him. Still, she was curious as to what he wanted to show her. “Fine. But if you’re trying to trick me into your bed, I know basic self-defense.”

  “I promise to keep my hands to myself.” He headed down a long hallway.

  She hesitated when he started up the stairs. “Maybe you should tell me what you’re going to show me.”

  Sighing, he retraced his steps. “Don’t trust easily, do you, Gina.”

  She tipped her chin. “No.” Men are pigs. Except this man was one hell of a sexy jungle cat, and if he did take her into his bedroom, she might beg him to tame her pussy. She nearly choked. Good heavens. Now she was throbbing in earnest.

  He laughed low in his throat. “I’d love to know what just went through your mind. Care to share?”

  “Hell no.” She couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Knowing your active imagination, I can guess. Look at me.” He waited until she sighed and obeyed. “I’m a Dom. You said you needed some research, so I thought you might like to see a playroom firsthand, see the equipment, and I can answer any questions you might have.”

  Of all the things she’d expected, his confession came as a complete surprise. The spit in her mouth dried even as her heart did a couple of hard thumps behind her breast. “You’re a Dom. For real?” Holy cow.

  He smiled gently. “Yes, for real. You know enough to know that a D/s relationship is built on trust and mutual agreement. As much as I might like to see you on my spanking bench, I’m not going to ask you to do anything you don’t want.” He let his gaze travel over her from the tip of her head to her tingling toes. “And if you want a demonstration, well, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” The idea of him giving her a demonstration sent heat zinging through her. Her mouth was dry as a desert, and her pussy wetter than a rain forest. She had dozens of butterflies fluttering inside her stomach. When he indicated she should go up the stairs, she went, hyper-aware of him following close behind. “To the right, second door.” He leaned past her, opened the door, and flipped on a light switch.

  Regina stepped inside, and her jaw dropped. God, not only was Tucker her hero, but he was a Dom as well. She stared at the king sized bed with four posts stretching toward the ceiling. And she gulped as she recalled the scene she’d written, her heroine tied to the bedpost with a silk scarf, foot raised and resting on the bed while the hero—

  Heat seared her neck and rose into her face, burning her cheeks. Thank god, Tucker hadn’t read that little naughty bit.

  Behind her, his hands closed over her shoulders. He leaned close, whispered in her ear. “What are you thinking about, pet?” His voice was silky smooth, low and amused. He trailed a finger along her cheek. “Your blush is very becoming.”

  “Blushing is a curse,” she barely managed. She did not need her overactive mind running away with her or fantasies centered around her childhood nemesis clouding her mind. Research, she reminded herself as she glanced away from the bed and nearly groaned aloud when she spotted the spanking bench against the far wall.

  “Ah, here we go.” He strode over, pulled it toward the center of the room. He lifted a brow when she remained just inside the door. “You are here to check it out, are you not?”

  Damn, she was acting like a virginal schoolgirl. You are virginal when it comes to all this. Or more in keeping with the theme, she was as vanilla as they came. She joined him and studied the leather bench.

  “As you see, I prefer leather to vinyl.” He swept his hand down the length. “Along the side, we have padded arm and knee rests. Wouldn’t want our heroine, or sub, to have sore knees, now would we?”

  “Um, certainly not.” Damn, she wanted that hand stroking the leather gliding up and down her back, cresting her—

  She forced her mind to study the details. Her gaze swept over the wide strips of leather cuffs, one set for thighs, the other for wrists. She walked around the bench, hands behind her back. No way was she touching… “Um, interesting.”

  Tucker studied her a moment. “If I was setting this up for you, I’d adjust the height to about here and raise this end so your ass is higher than your head.” He worked while he talked.

  Her ass sticking up? Heat raced to her center and started a nice, slow burn. God, her knees shook at the thought of Tucker staring at that part of her, especially right now as she was very aware of how wet her panties were getting.

  “Want to try it out? See how it feels?”

  “Tucker!” Oh, she wanted, very, very badly, she wanted, but she wasn’t here for thrills.

  “Firsthand experience, pet. You can trust me. I’ll only go as far as you want.”

  She was tempted to ask if he’d go all the way, if that was what she wanted, but wisely kept her mouth closed. She knew what to write and how to write it. No need to carry research that far.

  Then why are you having so much trouble?

  It wouldn’t hurt to try it out, see what it felt like to lay across a spanking bench, get some good, honest experience. “All right, but this isn’t the real deal here. Just seeing what it feels like.” Drawing in a deep breath, she climbed on, first one knee, then the other, and realized two things. She was wearing a dress, and the distance of the kneepads would leave her legs spread.

  Smoothing her skirt against her thighs, she slid her belly along the leather and rested her arms on the padded surfaces. The bench felt cold and way too narrow, but Tucker was right. Her knees were well cushioned. It felt strange, erotically so, to have her butt slightly higher than her body.

  “Now, if you were my sub, I’d fasten these straps around your wrists.” Before she could respond, he had one wrist cuffed.

  “Tucker.” She lifted up. He was kneeling in front of her, his cat-like eyes watchful and intense, and as warm as the honey of his voice.

  “Easy, Gina. I’m not going to do anything to you. Just giving you the experience.” He wrapped his fingers around her other wrist. “May I?”

  Experience. God. She’d wanted to do more research, hadn’t she? She was certainly getting that. She nodded. He restrained that wrist to the pad and then opened two additional cuffs on each side of the bench that cuffed her upper arms. She tried to pull her arms up and found she could only lift her head. She felt a momentary shiver of panic and fear, especially when he stood and she couldn’t lose herself in his sexy and calming eyes.

  “Next, I’d cuff your thighs and calves because I’d want you helpless and at my mercy while I pleasure you.”

  Pleasure her? Yes, please. Pleasure me. Her mind was still reeling from that th
ought when she realized he’d restrained her completely. With her legs spread, air brushed against her wet panties and made her even more aware of her arousal. “Oh my God, Tucker!”

  “Think of me as your teacher. Nothing more.” He stroked his hand from neck to the base of her spine. His strokes felt every bit as heavenly as she’d imagined.

  “Um, I have the idea now.” God, did she ever. But what shocked her was the discovery that lust had become a desperate throbbing need. She wiggled her ass, uncomfortable in the sensations building inside her.

  Tucker chuckled. “Yes, I believe you do. Are you turned on, my sexy sub?”

  She nearly choked. “Sexy sub?” Her voice rose to a squeak.

  “For all intents and purposes, you are my sub for this demonstration, are you not?”

  She shivered as he continued stroking her like a purring cat. “One more thing to make it feel real.” He trailed his hand over her ass, down her thighs, and back up, lifting her skirt until air slid up her thighs and across the very wet crotch of her panties.

  “Tell me how this feels, Gina? Do you feel sexy?” His deep voice was nearly a low growl.

  “Yes,” she gulped. He couldn’t be planning to spank her, could he? Or slip one of those long fingers into her pussy as Jake had done with—with—shit, who cared. Suddenly, she wanted Tucker to rip her panties down and see for himself how turned on she was.

  “You have a lovely ass, nice and shapely, and with your pale skin, I’d love to see it turn pink, then red when I spank you. Can you imagine my handprints on your ass, pet?” He laid both palms flat on that part of her body.

  Her bottom burned as though he’d spanked her to a rosy glow. Her clit throbbed and pulsed with desire. “Tucker.” Her voice rose, but whether in protest or begging him to do it, she refused to examine.

  “Ah well. A Dom can dream, can’t he?”