Restrained and Willing

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Restrained and Willing Page 27

by Tiffany Bryan


  “Wha—”

  He ducked down, caught her across the stomach and tossed her over his wide shoulder.

  “Are you nuts?” She pounded his back. He didn’t even flinch. “Put me down.” She wiggled. Gyrated. Sawed her legs. Attempted to grab a hunk of the back of his leg for a hard pinch, but the taut thick jeans wrapping his muscular legs prevented her from getting a good grip.

  All she gained for her considerable efforts was a sharp pinch on the ass, her silk skirt providing little protection. She yelped. Stilled. “You asshole.”

  “Asshole?” He paused for a second and she thought he might let her down. Instead he growled, “Keep it up, you belligerent little brat, and you’ll find yourself bare-ass naked over my knee. Remember I said it’s all about choices. Well, here’s yours. Either calm down, snap that lovely trap shut and hear me out. Or take your punishment first and hear what I have to say later.”

  His use of her pet name and the deep throaty threat sent a flow of warmth between her legs that only made her madder. She was not going to let this man get to her. Get a grip. She silently cursed her traitorous body, telling it no matter how much it craved him, it wasn’t going to get what it wanted.

  Heart pounding furiously, she lashed out. “You wouldn’t dare spank me. I don’t belong to you. Ohhh, if I were a man—”

  “If you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he said, clearly amused as he continued walking. “I don’t swing that way.”

  His light chuckle hiked her ire up another three notches. “How— How can you joke at a time like this? Nothing about this is funny.”

  “It will be. When you look back. Oh, say, in about five or ten years.”

  “You’re more likely to grow tits before that’ll happen,” she whipped out the sarcastic remark without thought. A whack on her upper thigh was his answer, bringing to light just how high her short skirt had hiked up.

  “You’re wrong about not belonging to me, sweetheart. You do. And I have every intention of keeping it that way.” Reaching the front of the couch, he dumped her onto the seat cushions.

  Her teeth clicked, snapping her lips closed over the words threatening to spew out. Good thing for him, since she’d been about to paint the cool air blue by telling him exactly what she thought about his high-handed treatment.

  “Well, you can’t have me.” She levered up on her elbows and glared. “I don’t share,” she grumbled under her breath.

  “Not another word. I swear to God, Heather, I will gag you if that’s what it’ll take to make you listen.”

  She compressed her lips.

  “That’s a good little sub.”

  He was purposely taunting her, but she refused to rise to the bait. Fuming, she sat up. When she grabbed the hem of her black pencil skirt to pull it down from where it had crawled up during her indignant ride, he clamped a restraining hand over hers.

  “Leave it. I like the view.”

  Had his voice been more commanding, less gentle, she would’ve told him where to stuff his request. But if she did, he’d make good on his promise to stuff something in her mouth. Her eyes automatically dropped to his crotch. Holy crap! He was rock hard and about to bust his zipper. It took every bit of her waning conviction to drag her gaze back to his smug face.

  Damn him. How she hated his self-control when she was so rapidly losing hers.

  “Fine,” she snapped with no attempt to tone down her anger. “Look your fill. Just don’t touch. Unless you want to lose a couple of fingers.”

  “Which ones? These two?” He held up his index and middle finger.

  She resisted the urge to clamp her legs together, thinking of how much sexual havoc he could wreak with those two talented digits alone. Get your head out of your pussy, Heather. She gave herself a mental shake. Okay, she’d hear him out and then toss his fine ass out the door. Instead of the gratification she expected, the thought nearly choked her. Never to see him again. Touch him. Kiss him. She fought back the tears that threatened to escape.

  I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not shed another tear over this lying jerk, ever again. Barely finished with the chant, she felt the delicately spun fibers of her heart disintegrating faster than cotton candy in an unexpected downpour.

  Damn it! Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with a man who could return her feelings? Not someone incapable of opening his heart. Oh, wait. He had opened it. To another woman.

  “Ready to be quiet and listen?”

  “Sure.” She removed her suit jacket with agitated movements and blindly flung it. She took it off more for a distraction than any necessity to shed the garment. Apparently, Pierce hadn’t seen the need to turn up the heat she’d adjusted to low before she’d left. Didn’t matter, chilly air or not, she was plenty hot—under the collar. Feeling a tad more under control, she cast an exaggerated glance at the gold designer watch on her wrist and looked up. “You have fifteen minutes. Talk.” She compressed her lips.

  Pierce sat down sideways on the couch next to Heather. The thin golden second hand on the diamond-studded black-faced timepiece could tick until Satan sprouted white angel wings for all he gave a damn. He wasn’t going anywhere. He gave a silent shake of his head, not knowing which he wanted to do more. Kiss her senseless or shake the stubborn stuffing of her. Either worked for him as long as he got to touch her. The sexy woman was driving him crazy. Even in a major snit, everything she did seemed to turn him on. Like her heaving chest pressing her ample breasts against her thin, silky blouse, the impression of a lacy bra beneath, leaving no doubt as to the location of her pointy nipples. He fought his inclination to demand she take the garment off so he could clamp his mouth on to the hard little nubs, tease them with his teeth, suck and nibble until she squirmed.

  The “Well, what are you waiting for?” look on her face reminded him of his purpose.

  Needing to touch her, even in the smallest way, he reached for her hands.

  She snatched them away, stuffed them behind her back.

  The evasive move only served to thrust her chest out and put those luscious tits on more prominent display. He fought the near-overpowering need to rip her clothes off and restrain her in that exact position for some mutually satisfying nipple torture.

  Later. Grovel first. Then play. He cleared his throat.

  “First and foremost, I need you to understand how sorry I am for the unintended pain I’ve caused you. I never meant to hurt you.”

  She hiked one cynical satiny eyebrow.

  He scraped his fingers through his hair. Damn, he hated this groveling shit. It grated against his dominant nature. Would be so much easier if he could secure her naked submissive ass to a St. Andrew’s and demand she forgive him. Yeah, he could imagine how well that would go over. Not that she didn’t want to submit. He’d felt her resolve waver more than once since she’d walked through the door. Sensed the times she’d caught herself before bending to the need to submit. But this wasn’t about a sub’s need to bow to a Dom’s stronger will. It was about her giving. Freely. Without a hint of coercion. He wanted her to give him everything, most especially her unreserved love. The precious thing he coveted more than his partnership in QPJ Construction.

  No sense dragging this out. “First off, the woman you saw me with is my half-sister.”

  She snorted. Rolled her eyes.

  He blew out a frustrated breath. He hadn’t expected this to be easy. But no way in hell was he going on the defensive as if he were some kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “You insinuating I’m a liar, brat?”

  Her smirk was replaced by a look of doubt, followed by a frown of deep concentration. Her lightning-fast mind probably searching her memory. It felt like an eternity before she gave a grudging shake of her head.

  He wasn’t happy with the length of time it took her to acknowledge, but he’d take the small concession. One snowflake at a time did a strong snowball make. “I was going to wait another couple of days before seeing you. It was Janis’ idea
for me to face you sooner.” A bit of female wisdom he saw the advantage in. Especially after she’d gotten into his face and called him a thickheaded, dumbass male. “She decided to tag along to make sure I didn’t screw things up.” Not that taking her had been an option. Unless he’d wanted to waste time arguing or manhandling her out of the passenger seat she’d parked her stubborn little ass into as he’d keyed the ignition.

  Another eye roll from Heather. She glanced around. Brought her hand from around her back and made an airy swipe to indicate the obvious lack of another’s presence.

  He took immediate advantage and nabbed her hand before she could stuff it behind her back again.

  She yanked.

  “Stop it,” he said in a firm voice, adding a bit more pressure to his grip.

  As he’d hoped, she went into auto submissive mode and relented. Another snowflake. Okay, he was being a real bastard by resorting to his Dom power over her, but if he was going to convince her how he really felt, he needed her to actually listen. “My sister’s at Pop’s.”

  Her eyes sprang wide. “You took her to my dad’s! You coerced him into giving you my key?”

  “Had I known he had a key, I might’ve taken her over there myself, but I convinced your brothers to drop her off.”

  “My brothers? Wait ‘til I get my hands on those traitors.”

  “The more times you open that pretty mouth of yours, the more punishment you earn.”

  She clamped her lips together and glared.

  “Glaring at your Dom? Tsk tsk. We’ll add that too.”

  Despite the steam that was probably pouring from her ears, she blanked her expression. Fortunately for him, her eyes weren’t as easy to control. Among the crackles of fury in the expressive deep-brown beauties were tiny flashing flecks of sensual excitement. He flicked a glance at her chest. Seemed her hardened nipples concurred. Two more snowflakes.

  “How’d you get in then? My brothers don’t have a key.”

  “We’ll discuss that later, along with your lack of adequate home security. There are more important things to sort out right now. Like the fact I shouldn’t have rejected your offer to go with me to see my mom. And I shouldn’t have cut you off so abruptly when you called to see how I was coping.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “An hour later, I realized I wanted you there. Called back, but it went straight to voicemail. Wanting to actually talk to you, I didn’t leave a message and decided to try later.” He skimmed his thumb over the back of her hand. “In between very enlightening conversations with my mom, I tried to call three more times with the same result. Figured you were probably ticked off and ignoring my calls.”

  Eyebrow hiked, she gave him a ya-think look.

  He marveled at her silence. But mostly he was in awe of the self-restraint she was showing in not taking a shot at his nose. He bet if he looked behind her back, her hand would be in a tight little fist. But he couldn’t very well punish her for her thoughts or what he couldn’t see. “When you still weren’t picking up the next day, I figured an in-person conversation was needed. So here I am.”

  The whole time he talked, he continued the light strokes over the back of her hand. He slightly loosened his grip. She not only didn’t attempt to reclaim her hand, but some of the tension left it. An encouraging sign. The confining ropes around his heart loosened their stranglehold.

  She swallowed. The movement of her delicate throat had him yearning to run his tongue along its slender length, nip the tender spot at the base where the gentle slope of her shoulder began. Soon, he promised himself.

  He looked up into eyes glinting with curiosity and decided to relent. A bit. “I can tell you have questions.” He stroked his chin with his free hand. “You have permission to ask two.” He held up the appropriate fingers. Once again, he was being an ass, but he would grovel appropriately later. For the next week if he had to, but right now he needed to control the conversation, because if he gave her free rein, he might lose her and that was something he wasn’t willing to risk.

  “Tell me everything about the time with your mother?” The words raced from her bow-shaped mouth.

  He grinned. Smart little brat. Figured she pick a loaded question. “Way too much to tell you everything now, but I’ll hit some of the high points.”

  She nodded in anticipation and unconsciously leaned closer, thinning the ice shield she’d erected between them. Snowflake! Knowing he had the major icebreaker sitting in the wings, he could afford to indulge her.

  “Turns out just about everything my dad told me was a pack of bald-faced lies.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Pierce tilted his head and studied her. “I drop a bombshell like that and you don’t look very surprised. We’ll definitely have to talk about your non-reaction later. To get back on the subject, turns out my mom hadn’t left me willingly. She fought tooth and nail to take me with her until he told her if she didn’t go quietly, he’d accuse her of being an unfit mother, blacken her name by painting her as a cheating whore and drag her through a very messy public divorce. Knowing the malicious bastard had the power, crooked connections and money to fabricate whatever lies he wanted, her hands were pretty much tied. Better to let him spew his dirty lies locally than to have them splayed across the country’s headlines for the entire world to see. So she moved a state away and waited for an opportunity to make peace.” He shook his head and smiled. “But she never stopped loving me.”

  He’d fill Heather in on the details of his hanging up on his mom when he was younger, how his later email was auto-blocked because he’d sent it from his father’s computer and how she’d assured him through sobs that had she gotten his message, she would’ve immediately replied.

  “Turns out she had boxes stuffed full of my school pictures, scholastic write-ups, awards. Copies of every damn report card. College transcripts. Newspaper clippings associated with QPJ. Even stuff about you.” He raised the hand he held, shifted his grip and kissed two of her knuckles. “And things about your bonehead brothers.” He smiled. “Anything related to me or anybody close to me.”

  She tilted her head. The tips of her eyebrows formed a deep V, producing creases in her forehead.

  From her expression, Pierce knew she was wondering how his mom had gotten some of the items he’d mentioned, but didn’t want to use up the second question he’d allotted her.

  He slipped the fingertips of his free hand under her spiky bangs to smooth over the furrowed lines. “Turns out she had a very sneaky accomplice.” He let his amusement show. “Something you can appreciate. Not as skilled as you in snooping, but pretty darn inventive. Doris.”

  Surprise lit her eyes and her mouth dropped open.

  An instant vision of his dick slipping inside to glide over her wet tongue to the back of her relaxed throat popped into his head, necessitating that he stifle a groan.

  He crooked a finger under her chin and applied gentle pressure until her mouth closed. No use tempting fate.

  “Yep, our own sweet, unassuming cook.” He let loose a low laugh. “Not only fantastic kitchen skills, but potential spy. Proficient at steaming open and resealing envelopes, stooping to a little bribery of a techy cousin who’d just about kill to get his hands on her pecan and sweet potato pies so she could do some minor hacking into my dad’s personal emails for anything my university might’ve sent him. Too bad she was too scared of being caught and fired if she snooped into anything else.”

  Heather sighed.

  “Yeah, I know, sweets. You’d have dug further. But you have to remember not everyone is as bold and daring as you. And Doris didn’t want to run the risk of getting canned because she wanted to be there for me.”

  He brushed a few wayward strands of silky hair behind Heather’s ear. “No wonder Doris was so hell-bent on me going to see my mother. Too bad I wasn’t as good at reading females back then. Or it was my fearless brat doing the snooping instead of Doris. Then maybe I wouldn’t have had such deeply embedded commitment issues.”

>   Heather’s nose scrunched as a funky little twist claimed her tempting mouth and made him chuckle.

  Pierce took a deep breath. “Enough about my mother and new extended family for now. What’s your second question?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thoughts tumbling in an attempt to process all Pierce had divulged since she’d found him in her apartment, Heather wasn’t sure what question to ask next.

  Not true.

  She knew what she wanted to ask, what she desperately needed the answer to, but was hesitant to back him into a corner.

  She believed he regretted how he’d treated her, hadn’t meant to hurt her, had changed his mind about her being with him when he’d gone to his mom’s. The man was honorable to the bone. But the million-dollar question was did he love her? Not the comfortable Merry Christmas warm-fuzzies, giggling kisses under the mistletoe kind of love you felt for someone you’d grown up with and known for years. More like the Fourth of July type of love. The flares, skyrockets, bursting fireworks, can’t-wait-to-marry-you kind. Sure, there’d be some duds and misfires along the way. Life wasn’t perfect. But she wanted that too. All of it. As long as she could share those days with Pierce.

  Since longer than she could remember, she felt as if she was on shaky ground. She took a deep breath, looked him square in the eyes and asked, “So where do we go from here? Where do you see me fitting into all this, Pierce?” Coward!

  He grinned so wide planes could have landed in the pitch black with nothing but the brightness of his smile to light their way.

  “Snowball.”

  “What?” The question burst forth. His command she remain silent was forgotten. Had she missed something? What the hell did a snowball have to do with anything?

  “Fuck snowball. I’m about to make a whole goddamn snowman,” he murmured a second before he tightened his grip on the hand he held, grabbed the one that had gone slack behind her back and yanked her against his chest so hard her breath erupted out between them.

 

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