by Zara Chase
“Ah!”
“Yeah, you like that idea, don’t you? I can just see you with butterfly clamps on your nipples and on the lips to your pretty pink pussy.”
“With what!”
He chuckled. “You really are delightfully ignorant, but if you’re a real bad girl I just might be persuaded to further your education.”
Now why had he said that? There simply wasn’t time and he didn’t need to get involved, tempting though the prospect of entanglement with the delicious Chelsea might be. She could tempt just about any man with nothing more than a smile and a knowing look. But that was beside the point. He hadn’t asked her how long she was in Nevella for but no one came skiing for more than a week. Perhaps two. And Jack had a horrible feeling that if he started educating her, he wouldn’t be ready to let her go again quite that soon.
Warning bells jangled. He’d been on friendly terms with all his subs but he’d never felt emotional involvement with any of them. But that was what he already felt for Chelsea. Damn it, how had he let that happen?
“You ready to come for me again, sweetheart?” he asked on a fractured breath, straining to hold back, teetering on the brink. “We’re gonna do this together. Now!”
He rammed as hard as he could into her, holding her hips with both hands because the force he used would have knocked her from her knees otherwise. She cried out at the exact same moment as his balls pulled tight and, grunting and growling, he finally allowed himself to eject a steady stream of semen into the condom.
“Shit,” he said, panting as he leaned over to kiss the hollow of her back. “You’re something else. Thanks for that. I hope I didn’t get too carried away and hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” He withdrew from her and saw the looked of dazed incomprehension on her lovely face. “How could you have hurt me? You gave me three orgasms.”
Jack was tempted to pull her into his arms and take a moment to recover. But if he did that he’d probably fall asleep because holding her in his arms felt too damned right for comfort. He reminded himself, if any reminder was necessary, that there was no profit in getting addicted to a tourist. He sighed, removed the condom, and knotted the end of it. Then he unfastened the scarf binding her wrists, swept her into his arms, and carried her through to the bathroom.
“Come on, sweetheart, we need to get clean.”
“Aw, can’t we rest, just for a moment?”
“Who’s in charge here?”
“Did I mention I’m not good at taking orders?”
“You took my cock just fine when I ordered you to.”
“I did, didn’t I?” She looked rather pleased with herself as he sat her on the closed toilet lid while he set the shower running. “Who knew?”
“That was nothing compared to what you could do, if only you’re prepared to put your trust in a guy who knows what he’s doing.” Jack couldn’t believe he’d just said that. His brain and his mouth were obviously not communicating.
“You, I suppose?” She tried to look indignant but didn’t pull it off, mainly because they were now in the shower, he was busy soaping her tits, and she appeared to be enjoying the experience a little too much. Not as much as he was, though.
“You got any complaints about the service?”
“If I do, they need to be submitted in writing, in triplicate, to the management, I suppose.” He frowned, which made her giggle. He liked the sound of her giggle ringing around his bathroom. He could listen to it all day. “Seriously though, I suppose I can’t pretend you don’t know your way around a woman’s body.”
“I’ve never needed a map, it’s true.”
Jack was sorely tempted to give her a reminder of just how unnecessary a map would be, right there beneath the hot jets of water. But he’d need to suit up again and he hated fucking in a shower, inhibited by a condom.
“Come on then, sweet thing. Let’s get you dry, then we can rest up for a while before I take you home.”
She looked disappointed, as though she’d expected to spend the night, but Jack wasn’t ready to go that far. Not even for Chelsea, who had gotten to him on levels that had remained female-free zones for a decade or more. He wrapped her in a fluffy towel and carried her back to bed.
“Half an hour is all you get,” he said, wagging a finger at her.
“Then can I have another orgasm?” She smiled winsomely. “Pretty please? You’ve whetted my appetite. I’ll even let you spank my bottom.”
Jack was taken aback. “Really?”
She grinned like she’d suddenly realized just how much power she wielded over him. “Whatever it takes.”
Half-erect again, Jack crawled between the sheets and pulled her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, sighed with post-coital contentment, and appeared to be asleep within seconds.
“So much for a repeat performance,” Jack muttered, dropping a kiss on her brow.
* * * *
Chelsea woke from a deep sleep. She was in a strange room and had absolutely no idea whose it was. She hated to be out of control and panicked, her thinking slowed by her soporific state and the fact that the room was in complete darkness. She didn’t want to leave the erotic dream of herself and the man of…well, of her dreams, but a full bladder had nudged her back to awareness. She must have dreamt him because no man was that perfect in real life.
She squirmed, her body felt pleasantly bruised and memories that she definitely hadn’t invented invaded her brain. Strange, but the pillow her head was resting on felt much like a solid masculine chest. She lifted her head, conscious of warmth radiating from a large body stretched out beside her. A gloriously male, very muscular, stark naked body. It all came flooding back to her then. Jack Gower, handsome even when sound asleep, and the things he had persuaded her to do.
She waited for regret and guilt to materialize. Chelsea simply didn’t do all that kinky stuff she’d just embraced with Jack. But her conscience appeared to be taking a vacation, right along with the rest of her. Holiday flings didn’t count, she decided. That was the whole point of them. Besides, even though she might technically be working rather than vacationing, there was nothing in her contract that said she couldn’t have fun as well. And wow, what fun she’d had!
Even so, now that she wasn’t too turned-on to think straight, she couldn’t completely dispel her doubts about Jack, no matter how loudly he’d made her body sing. No matter how many orgasms he’d given her. She recalled the disparaging way he’d spoken about the other helicopter service in Nevella and recalled some of the questionable tales she’d heard about the families that ran the country. Jack might not be dishonest, but he was hiding from something. He was a skilled pilot and could do a lot better for himself than this sleepy little place and these rather Spartan living arrangements. If the Pardon family, owners of Medina Valley, ordered Leo to…well, to order Jack to do what they wanted for their own profit, he would have to comply. Wouldn’t he? Otherwise Leo’s entire operation could be in jeopardy.
Disquieted by such thoughts, Chelsea pushed the covers back and crept to the bathroom, careful not to wake Jack. He looked totally out of it. Presumably he wouldn’t be taking her home after all. He hadn’t seemed that keen for her to stay, either, and she didn’t want to force herself on him. What to do? She didn’t actually need an escort. Nevella was safe enough, but she was unsure how to get past all those locked doors and let herself out.
She used the facilities and crept back into the bedroom. Jack hadn’t moved. He was still flat on his back, softly snoring. She drank in the sight of him, entranced but slightly annoyed by his physical perfection. There ought to be a law against any one person being that well put together. He had to have flaws. Everyone did, and she wondered where he’d hidden his.
To distract herself from her salacious thoughts, Chelsea again concentrated upon her suspicions about him. She hated to snoop but…well, that’s what she got paid for doing. He was dead to the world and would never know any different. Besides, time was of the es
sence and she’d probably never get a better opportunity.
Mind made up, Chelsea crept into the sitting room and sat naked at Jake’s desk. She pushed the button to bring his laptop back to life, thinking there might be something in his email to lend clues about the business that had brought her to Nevella. Always supposed he was involved. Chelsea desperately wanted to be wrong about him but couldn’t let sentiment stop her from doing her job.
Damn, his computer was password protected.
Of course it was!
Daunted but not defeated, Chelsea opened the first of the desk drawers and carefully rifled through it, not knowing what she was looking for, but looking anyway. There was nothing there to interest her. No address books, nothing personal, no smoking gun. Had she seriously imagined he would be that careless?
She closed the drawer as quietly as she could and turned her attention to the next one down. Again, no dice.
“Does the man have no personal life,” she muttered mutinously.
She gasped aloud when she opened the final drawer on one side and found a handgun nestled there. Now that changed everything. She picked it up and examined it closely. She knew absolutely nothing about guns but also knew a helicopter pilot in a peaceful European country that had almost no crime had no business owning one. Her suspicions about him were confirmed and her disappointment was intense.
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jack’s voice demanded to know from behind her.
Chapter Five
Jack stood in the doorway, seething with anger as he watched Chelsea handling his gun, her expression a combination of curiosity and disbelief. She had obviously conducted a search of his desk, violated his personal space, which infuriated him. He reminded himself of all the reasons why he didn’t bring women back to his rooms—not ever—and called himself all sorts of fool for thinking she might be an exception to that rule. He curled his upper lip in derisive disgust for being taken in by her. She had some sort of agenda—that much was obvious—and had played on his interest in her to get close.
Why? Who was she and who had sent her?
Not that it mattered. Whatever they might have had going between them was well and truly over. Even through the red mist of his rage, Jack still felt a moment’s regret about that.
Fool!
“Jack, I didn’t hear you.” She looked as guilty as she obviously was as she hastily replaced the gun in the drawer she’d taken it from. “I can explain.”
He grabbed his discarded jeans, pulled them on, and zipped up. With arms folded across his naked chest, he fixed her with a cold stare designed to conceal his disappointment. Would he never learn? “This oughta be good,” he said scathingly.
Jack hadn’t intended to fall asleep—certainly not for as long as he had anyway. Blame Chelsea for that. It had felt natural to have her curled up against him, her hair spread over her chest like they’d fallen asleep in one another’s arms a thousand times before. He’d watched her for a while, resisting the temptation to wake her up for a repeat performance. Knowing she would take like a natural to all the stuff he liked to do, there was no way he could revert to Plan A and stick to vanilla sex. So he had a decision to make. Either give into temptation and show her just a little bit more about her own instincts or let her go altogether.
That was the dilemma he’d been wrestling with when he fell asleep himself. A noise woke him and he found the space beside him empty. At first he assumed the noise had come from the bathroom, but the light wasn’t on. They had, however, left the light on in the sitting room and Jack pushed back the covers to go and see what she was doing. Getting dressed perhaps, ready to return to her hotel? Jack didn’t like that idea but one of them had to be sensible. He’d walk her back and continue to mull over the problem she’d left him with without the distraction of her body to muddy his thinking.
“I…er, that’s to say—”
“Who sent you?” he asked, barely able to look at her.
“What? No one. Why would they? I just wanted to—”
“Get dressed.” Jack didn’t need to hear her pathetic excuses. She obviously wasn’t going to be honest with him so he wanted her the hell out of his space. “I’ll take you back to your hotel.”
“No, Jack, please.” She jumped up, still naked but no longer seeming to be embarrassed by it. Had she ever been or was her earlier reticence a big performance to put him off his game? If it was, she was a better actress than he’d given her credit for being because she’d had him fooled. “I’m really sorry. I know how it looks, but it’s not like that.”
He elevated one brow and appraised her coldly. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I like you. I like you a lot but this place…well, it seems so sterile. I wondered if you were married, if there was someone else in your life.”
“And you couldn’t just ask me?”
“I should have done. I can see that now.”
She was lying and the fact that she could lie to him after what they’d just done together hurt more than her snooping ever could.
“Get dressed,” he repeated, snatching her thong from his desk and throwing it at her.
He went back into the bedroom, having no wish to watch her or listen to more of her lies. He ought to be used to people letting him down but her betrayal hurt like a bitch. He pulled on a clean shirt, shrugged into his flying jacket, and thrust his feet into another pair of boots. No way was he going back to the sitting room while she was dressing to find his favorite ones. He didn’t even want to look at her.
“Ready?” he asked tersely when he finally had no choice but to go in search of her.
“Jack, you really don’t need to put yourself out for me.”
“Trust me, I wasn’t planning to.” His tone reflected his tightly controlled anger. “You can’t get out of here without me letting you out.”
“Then just find my coat, let me out, and I’ll be gone.”
He opened the door and ushered her through it. They tripped down the stairs in taut silence, several feet of daylight separating them as Jack led the way at a rapid pace she struggled to match. A very different state of affairs to the frantic way in which they had climbed those stairs a few short hours previously.
It was coming up to two in the morning. The bar was still functioning but the patrons had thinned out. Leo was standing in his usual place at the end of the bar. He raised a hand to them both. Jack ignored him but noticed Chelsea’s face burn as she tentatively returned the gesture.
“Which is yours?” Jack asked when they reached the place where she’d left her coat.
She found it but he left her to struggle into it on her own. The temperature was below freezing when they stepped into the street. Chelsea shivered, pulled on her gloves, and pulled up her coat collar. Jack had no hat or gloves but was warmed by his burning anger. He strode along at a rapid pace and Chelsea almost had to run to keep up with him. She slipped on a patch of ice and Jack shot out a hand to grab her arm and save her. He let it go again as soon as she was upright and slowed down—fractionally.
They reached her hotel without further mishap and without exchanging a word. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and waited for her to climb them.
“Jack, I—”
“Good night,” he said, turning on his heel and striding off again.
Jack slammed his way back into the bar, which was now closing.
“Looks like you could use this,” Leo said, thrusting a glass of bourbon into Jack’s hand and following him into their private lounge. The same lounge he and Chelsea and eaten dinner in a few short hours before. He was convinced her subtle perfume still lingered in the air, mocking him for being such a damned fool. “Wanna talk about it?” Leo asked, throwing himself into a chair opposite the one Jack had taken.
Jack downed half his drink in one angry gulp, letting the spirit burn away some of his anger.
“Not much to talk about,” Jack replied morosely. “I made a mistake.”
“Y
ou took her upstairs?”
“Yeah, which is the mistake in question.” Jack kicked moodily at a corner of the rug. “I thought she just might be different.”
“She could be a player,” Leo said. “I sensed it about her, although I doubt whether she’s aware of it herself.”
“Yeah, she could be, or knows I am and gave a good impression just to catch me off guard.” Jack curled his fist, wanting to hit something, or someone, just to relieve his frustration. “And she fucking had me fooled.”
“You haven’t told me what happened to spoil the party,” Leo pointed out mildly.
“We fell asleep. I woke up and found her rummaging through my desk.”
“Shit!”
“That about covers it.” Jack got up to refill his glass. Leo shook his head when he offered to provide the same service for him.
“Did she say why?”
Jack made a scoffing sound at the back of his throat. “She said she was curious about me. Wanted to know why there were no obvious signs of me having someone in my life.”
“Goddamn. You think she’s connected to Alison?”
“Hell if I know what to think.” Jack took a swig of his fresh drink, resigned to another hangover. “She kept saying she could explain but I didn’t want to hear it. There was nothing she could say that would change anything.” He shrugged. “I thought she was special. I got it wrong. Shit happens.”
“You need to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind that might get you in trouble.”
“Yeah, the same thought had occurred to me.”
“I’ll get Danny in tomorrow and get the room swept for listening devices.”
“I don’t think Alison would go that far.”
“It’s your call. Let me know what you decide.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Chelsea, buddy.” Leo leaned across and slapped Jack’s shoulder. “If it helps any, she had me fooled, too.”
“Fuck it, Leo, she was dynamite between the sheets. I really thought we could have some fun together while she’s here. She’s never been Dominated but was so damned receptive of the little bit of pain I gave her. She took to it like she’d been doing it all her life. She let me spank her, tie her hands and…shit, she came for me three times.”