by Lea Griffith
There was a whoosh and the fall of the flogger. A hiss sounded from Savannah, followed quickly by a laughing moan. Ruthie hated the woman, and with every continued fall of the tails on her flesh, that hate began to bubble over to Tobias.
She didn’t want to hate Tobias, but right then and there the scorching emotion ran neck and neck with all the love she had for him. If it came to a race, she had no idea of the outcome.
Before too long the atmosphere became heady with anticipation. Savannah’s moans and low grunts as Tobias flogged her were an abomination to Ruthie, so she sifted through the sounds and listened for Tobias’s movements.
His breathing was even, his movements probably a work of art as he now worked Savannah with two floggers. She’d felt the bite of his short-tailed, braided flogger followed by the French kiss of his thudding flogger.
“He’s shut down,” Candace whispered in her ear as she squeezed Ruthie’s shoulder.
Beside her Dante Shaw’s body was a rock, his muscles straining as he leaned forward. Ruthie felt and heard it all—Candace’s words, Dante’s attention on the stage—and it was overwhelming.
It should be her.
He should never have asked her to leave.
She stood suddenly, the energy in the room running through her veins, urging her to intervene. The sounds ceased. The low music Tobias liked to listen to as he played continued to throw its hard beat, but it was as if Ruthie’s action stopped everything else.
She sensed it then—Tobias’s attention on her. Her skin heated, then cooled immediately. Ruthie hadn’t meant for him to see her this way, yet wasn’t it appropriate? She’d come here for her man; what better way to let him know she was here to stake a claim?
Her embarrassment was mitigated somewhat by the fact that she couldn’t see everyone else’s reaction to her movement.
Woman up, Ruthie. You got this.
Candace patted her hip in support.
Ruthie began to clap then—as if the show Tobias was putting on was worthy of admiration and praise.
She stopped and cocked her head. It was now or never.
“Haven’t lost your touch, huh, Tobias? I can hear the flogger falling, and it’s quite a beautiful sound. What I’d really like is to feel it,” she said in a low voice. Her meaning could not be misconstrued.
Several gasps sounded from around her. Dante Shaw stood up and wrapped his arm across her shoulders. Ruthie took a single step out of the small embrace and raised her chin.
“What the hell?” Savannah Cavanaugh exclaimed from her spot onstage.
Ruthie shrugged. It was insanely bad etiquette to interrupt a scene. To top it off, she acted as if the submissive he’d been flogging didn’t matter at all by calling him out.
So be it. He was hers.
“Goddamn it.” Tobias’s response was tortured—sandpaper over gravel.
Ruthie’s smile widened, and she heard him hiss in a breath.
“I’m back, Tobias. Put your big Dom panties on and come get me, yeah?”
Then she turned, grabbed Candace’s hand, and allowed the other woman to lead her through the club to the elevators. Her body shook in the aftermath of what she’d just instigated, and yet there was a heat simmering low in her abdomen.
“Hot damn, woman! Threw it down, didn’t you? He’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him, Ruthie. You sure you don’t want to come to my apartment tonight? We’re in the city all weekend,” Candace offered.
“Nope. I’m going to my apartment and waiting. He’s coming, no doubt about it. I want you to tell Jeremiah and Daly to stay away. This is between Tobias and me. We’ll either work it out or we’ll end it completely. But I appreciate the offer.”
They didn’t say another word as the elevator took them up to Ruthie’s apartment. Candace squeezed her hand and murmured she’d be there if Ruthie needed her.
Ruthie wouldn’t need her. She wouldn’t need Daly, Jeremiah, or anyone else. She needed Tobias, and it was his move to make.
She grabbed her remote, turned up her music, and sat down to wait.
If she knew her man, the wait wouldn’t be a long one.
Chapter 3
It took him a minute to get his shit together. The sight of Ruthie never failed to rearrange great big pieces of Tobias, settling them into their proper configuration after a long period of being scattered. He couldn’t breathe when he wasn’t with her, and within seconds of seeing her everything eased inside him. She’d always been that for him.
She looked, tasted, and felt like home.
And she’d been there as he’d dominated another woman.
Another woman…damn it! He tossed his flogger down and moved to Savannah quickly, untying his ropes, which bound her to a St. Andrew’s Cross. Her back was red but not welted with his marks. She loved the floggers but loved the whip even more. They hadn’t made it to the whip, and the look in her eyes, a hard glare with a hint of ice, told Tobias she was way more than pissed they’d been interrupted.
“That was beyond gauche,” she bit out between clenched teeth.
He shrugged. Bad manners or not, once he’d known Ruthie was there, all bets with anyone else were off. As he looked at Savannah’s long, brown hair, green eyes, and golden skin, all he could see was hair of ebony, crystal blue-gray eyes, and a body covered in shiny red latex.
Goddamn, Ruthie was even more beautiful than when he’d last seen her.
“I see your attention has caught on another matter.”
Tobias looked to his left and noticed Dante Shaw. The other man’s eyes were locked on Savannah, and in them was no small amount of lust. Well, that was interesting.
Dante finally drew his gaze from the slight woman standing between them. Her head was bowed and her body trembled. Tobias had left her needing. Submission was her release—she needed it like she needed to eat. It was the woman’s sustenance.
And still all he could see was Ruthie. The one woman he wouldn’t let himself have.
“Perhaps your submissive will allow me to ease her?” Dante’s words were for Tobias, but he was once again staring at Savannah.
“She’s not mine,” Tobias said between clenched teeth.
Her head came up, and she glared at him before her gaze switched to Dante. She backed up a step and her hand came up to her chest. If Dante’s intense interest in Savannah was interesting, her response to him surpassed that, moving into straight shocking.
She had to know who he was. The question was did Dante know the woman shuddering in need before him was a City of Atlanta police detective? Talk about a conflict of interest.
“Savannah?” Tobias ventured.
His own body was locked tight, his guts twisted, his mind demanding he stalk up the five floors to get to Ruthie, right now. He tamped it all down. He owed it to Savannah to at least take care of something.
She kept her gaze on Dante and didn’t respond.
“Savannah, this is Dante Shaw. Dante, this is Savannah Cavanaugh. Detective Savannah Cavanaugh.”
Neither said a word, but Dante inclined his head and Savannah took another step back, bringing her back flush to the cross and raising her arms.
Her consent was implied by her actions.
Tobias shook his head. “You’ll have to give him the words. House rules demand you work out a contract, verbal or written. Dante, you know The Underground’s Hard Limits?”
Dante nodded. There was a tangible connection between Shaw and Savannah. Tobias felt like a voyeur.
“Savannah? I need your consent,” he said firmly.
“From the moment she spoke you had nothing for me, Tobias Edwards. We’re good here. Carry on with Ruthie,” Savannah responded in a breathy voice.
When had Savannah Cavanaugh ever sounded breathy?
Tobias left them to it, his blood running hot thinking about the woman above. He stalked to the elevators, heart thumping furiously as he wondered what the fuck he was going to say to her. Hi? How have you been? I want to bend you over your couch
and fuck the hell out of you, but first, can I pretty please tan your hide with my paddle?
All of those maybe?
Her ass was the stuff of legends. He adjusted himself as he pressed the button for the fifth floor, then leaned against the wall of the elevator and sighed deeply.
Her ass was forgotten momentarily as her voice replayed in his mind. She’d dared him to come to her. The damn woman was trying to break him.
It wouldn’t take much. What Gallo had done to Tobias three years ago was nothing compared to what Ruthie could do at any given time. Gallo had only scarred his face. Ruthie could push the knife deep enough to scar the rest of him, heart included.
So he’d pushed her away, afraid of visiting his personal issues, his need for dominance and all that entailed, on the sweetest thing he’d ever held. No doubt, Ruthie deserved better than Tobias Edwards.
The trip to her floor was made almost too quickly. He counted every heartbeat, afraid if he didn’t ground himself before he was in her space he’d lose his mind. The counting didn’t work. Nothing did when it came to Ruthie.
The elevator doors opened and there she was, sitting directly across from where he stood in a high-backed wing chair, the red latex of her dress startling in contrast to the vibrant blue brocade upholstery.
She smiled and Tobias hardened. The music, some electronic dance music she’d always been fond of, pulsed from the speakers situated throughout the room. He wondered how the hell she’d heard the elevator over that god-awful noise.
He stepped into her domain and made the mistake of inhaling deeply. Jasmine—always it was jasmine. It bled from her pores, infusing the very air around her with her subtle scent. His cock, already rock hard, throbbed now.
She lifted her remote and cut the music off, sending the room into silence. His ears rang, but whether it was from the sudden lack of music or the blood pounding through his veins was anyone’s guess.
“Hello, Toby,” she whispered, the curve of her lips ripping his insides to shreds.
He took another breath, fighting the pull of her husky voice. He could listen to her talk for hours, but that’s not why he’d come here tonight. “Why?”
She uncrossed her mile-long legs, the ones he craved to have wrapped around his hips as he dove—
Tobias shook himself. Not why you’re here, hoss.
Ruthie stood, the low lighting in the room throwing shadows around her lusciously curved body. She was pinup worthy, with her tall frame, more-than-a-handful breasts, small waist, and wider hips that begged to have him seated in their cradle. She would fit against him perfectly, all that smooth skin, now covered by latex, sliding along his as he pushed and pulled, stroked and withdrew.
“I thought I made it pretty clear downstairs in the club. I’m here for you,” she said firmly. No hesitation. Not his Ruthie.
Whoa—she wasn’t his. He’d pushed her away; he needed to continue doing so. But even as he had the thought he was moving toward her.
When he was inches from her, she tilted her head up, and he was caught in the glacial magnificence of her gaze. Eyes the color of ice were a perfect counterpoint to the heat raging through him from being so close to her.
“It’s been three years, Ruthie. I thought you got the hint I wasn’t interested.”
Her composure almost, almost cracked at that. She blinked quickly and bit her lower lip, a bad habit that Tobias had never been able to resist.
Hell, who was he kidding? He’d never been able to resist a goddamn thing about Ruthie Copeland. Her smell, her looks, her heat, her heart—they always drew him in and made him want to stay wrapped in her for eternity.
She rebounded before he had time to dig at her again. “Bless your heart, Tobias Edwards, that you thought I wouldn’t return.”
“Return for what?” he asked impatiently. He caught himself raising his hand to touch her face, brush his knuckles over the softness of her cheek, and he lowered the traitorous offender.
She released her lower lip, and then her bow mouth curved again. “What’s mine.”
He stepped back, panic spearing him in the gut. “Don’t do this, Ruthie.”
It was a plea. He’d beg if he had to. She had him—always had, always would. But he couldn’t let her have all of him. Though he’d taken others, nobody put him together like Ruthie. He was home inside her, but as much as he needed her, he wouldn’t visit his past on her. He was so broken inside, and more than a little afraid of what he’d become with Ruthie. She’d demand more than he knew he could give. What she needed had never been in him.
And now he was even more splintered. The weeks spent in the not-so-tender clutches of Vessi Gallo shortly after Ruthie left him had completed what his father had begun so many years ago.
His father had done a number on him. Tobias had fled the powerful clutches of Heyward Edwards in his teens. His father’s abusive, tyrannical rages had caused a hatred so deep, Tobias had wanted to kill Heyward, yet he realized he had no power to effect that. The only reason he’d returned periodically to his childhood home was to check on Daly.
When she’d come of age, leaving the bastard herself, Tobias had washed his hands completely of his father. But the damage had been done. His father had been a manipulative bastard, sparing neither his hands nor his hateful, hurtful words. When he’d been too “tired” to have Tobias punished, he’d had one of his security guards do it.
Thank God for Jeremiah. He’d recognized what was going on and had offered Tobias a safe haven. His friendship with Jeremiah was about salvation—in a whole slew of ways. He’d given Tobias a place to stay and unconditional friendship, and he’d introduced Tobias to the woman who’d occupied his heart from first glance.
The same woman standing before him right now, determined to force Tobias to accept her and the claim she’d unknowingly made on him at the tender age of nine.
She stepped forward. “I’m not sure I understand what it is you don’t want me to do, Toby,” she murmured.
He took another step back. “This.”
She gestured between them, the curve of her lips a taunt now—a delicious taunt. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’m still not following you.”
“I asked you not to do this three years ago. Fuck me, Ruthie, I left you and begged you not to come back.”
She nodded. “Actually, I believe the specific request was, ‘Move on with your life as if I don’t exist, and I’ll do the same.’ ” She sighed and shrugged, clearly unrepentant. “There are risks I’m willing to take, things I’m willing to do, things I have done simply to stay sane. But now, Tobias? Now it’s time to take what’s mine. And that would be you.”
Desperation moved through him, oily and menacing. He was dark. She was light. He wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it.
Yet even as he told himself not to reach for her, the words she tossed down between them had him doing just that. His hands wrapped in the long black silk of her hair, tugging her head back so forcefully she hissed and fell against him.
His brain short-circuited. To have those delectable curves pressed against his frame was torture. Need for her clawed its way through muscle and bone, finding a home in his very cells. His skin itched to stroke over hers. The feel of her hair on his wrist made his breath halt.
“I’m not yours,” he argued.
“I beg to differ—there’s never been any other for me,” she claimed.
“Goddamn you, Ruthie. I begged.”
“And now you don’t have to, Tobias. I’m here; rest in me. Show me what it means to be home,” she demanded.
Tobias closed his eyes. Her beautiful face was serene, as if she knew the outcome before he did. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this. He’d repeat that as many times as necessary.
He lowered his mouth slowly, the taste of her emblazoned in his memory. Was she still as sweet as sin, or had the last three years played with him? He licked across her upper lip first. She stilled in his arms before it seemed her muscles failed her an
d she sagged against him.
“I begged,” he whispered at her lips.
Tobias knew he sounded like a broken record, yet it was all he could get out. Another stroke of his tongue—this time over her bottom lip—caressing the seam before he licked at the corner.
Her breath became heated, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He had surer footing here, in the midst of arousal. He knew what to do with this; she was his playground.
Three years since he’d had her here, her body dancing with his, her mouth under his own.
He let the gruffness of his need pour into his words. “I pleaded with you.”
He bit her lower lip. She drew in another ragged breath and then smiled.
“You left, just like I asked. I was fine, all good, and now you’re back.” He sucked the offended lower lip between his lips and suckled.
She moaned, and it was the sweetest music to his ears.
“Demanding things of me I refused to give you the first time.”
His hands lowered down her body, taking the zipper on the back of her dress with them. She shivered, and it was Tobias smiling now, satisfaction coursing through his blood, potent and dangerous.
She roused the animal inside him. He let his hands splay over the smooth expanse of her skin, digging his fingers into the curve of her ass. She wasn’t wearing underwear, and he wanted to shout his joy.
Instead, he taunted her, pulling the rounded globes apart as far as the restrictive latex of the dress would allow. She’d obviously been poured into the damn thing. It was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen, her curves covered by the red-hot, shiny material, but just now it was offensive. He wanted it off her.
“You think you can come back here, split my world apart again, Ruthie? You think you can do that and there won’t be repercussions?” he asked.
He used his grip on her ass, the latex hugging them both now as her body heated and made it much more difficult to manipulate, to pull her up and closer. He notched his hard cock at the juncture of her thighs and rolled his hips.
“Please,” she pleaded.
“Please what, Ruthie? Please stop? Please continue? What shall it be?”