She wished like hell she could see Him, wished she could reach up to instigate a kiss, but instead, she waited, breathlessly, wondering what He was about to do.
His own breath gusted onto her lips, the faint tang of mint and coffee pinged her senses, and the need to taste Him, again, overcame her. She reached up, even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to, and brushed His lips with her own.
As she did, she felt the blindfold give way slightly. The shock didn’t penetrate the sheer wonderment of His kiss though. As He thrust His tongue between her lips, the tensile muscle starting to tangle with her own, His hand burrowed between them, and His cock was right where those freezing cold ice cubes had been mere moments before.
She cried out, the sound swallowed by Him, as He fucked His shaft into her. The slow thrust reclaiming her as His, filling her to overfull, not stopping until the walls of her sex quivered around the veins that circled His dick. The faint textures of His cock, which were singular to Him, and ones she always felt because she was so attuned to Him when they were in this room, drove her crazy.
She let Him take her breath from her, let Him wrap her up in His essence until she was nothing more than His, and she embraced it. As He started to thrust, His cock hit places that were still trembling from her earlier orgasm, and her head fell back, the muscles in her neck melting to mush with the pleasure He stirred in her. He followed her downward trajectory so their mouths were still connected, but when she opened her eyes, this time, there was no darkness.
She blinked, shocked at being able to see, and for a few seconds, astonishment, as well as ‘night’ blindness, stopped her from focusing. But when she did, and she looked up into the face of her Sir, Meg froze.
As their eyes connected, both registering with shock at her lack of a blindfold, Sir’s thrusts increased. They sped up, His hips rocking back and forth so quickly the bed squeaked and squawked, and while Meg’s pussy protested the force, it also reveled in His need for her.
As her brain unraveled with the sights before her, her body was fully in charge.
“Gush for me,” He gritted out tautly, His voice like silk over gravel.
And as she flew, Meg’s shame knew no bounds, because the man rutting away between her thighs, was not her Sir.
Yet, He was her Sir.
The cock inside her was one she’d come over, one she’d sucked and touched, licked and held. She knew that shaft. Knew it like she knew her own pussy, for Christ’s sake.
Which meant this stranger was her Sir; only, she’d been duped, and for whatever reason, her boyfriend, the man she’d thought was her Master, had been lying to her for close to two years.
But as her frazzled nerves dealt with the explosion that was her orgasm, as the fireworks that burst behind her eyes cascaded in a million colors, she couldn’t care less.
And it was that, that would take her a lifetime to get over. Mortification wasn’t the word, and when she awoke from the sheer surcease of the glut of pleasure she’d been forced to experience, it was that humiliation which made her burst into tears, and which turned love into hate.
Chapter One
Six months later
“You need to get over it.”
Meg blinked at her computer screen then turned to her office door. “I beg your pardon?”
Her office assistant, Jesse, sighed. “You know what I’m talking about.” As he folded his arms over his chest, his gaze was pointedly trained on the flowers she’d thrown in the waste bin.
“They’re mine to do with as I wish.”
He sniffed. “They’re a goddamn waste is what they are. If you don’t want them, I’ll have them. Brian loves flowers. Let me give them to him, and let me have some free credit.”
“You in his bad books again?” She snorted. “Hell, talk about stupid question, when aren’t you in his bad books?”
Jesse smirked. “It’s probably a good thing he loves me.” He studied the flowers in the trash once more. “As another man loves you, I’d say.”
Tightening her lips, Meg turned her attention to the screen once more. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jesse. How many times do we have to have this conversation?”
“I don't know, a thousand? If anyone was in need of talking about something, it's you. Once you finally talk about it, you might feel better for getting it off your chest, and then you might be able to move the fuck on.” He grunted. “You’re driving me crazy, Meg. It’s like someone died, but I know nobody has because I’d have had to schedule a day off for the funeral or something.”
“It doesn’t matter, Jesse,” she said with a tired sigh. “It really doesn’t.” Weariness settled on her shoulders as it always did when her thoughts fluttered back to the past. The hurt was still there, the pain and misery of being lied to were a constant ache. Talking wasn't the miracle analgesic everyone professed it to be.
Sure, she needed to forget, to move on, but that didn't feel like it was coming any time soon.
“Of course, it matters,” he snapped. “I don’t know what happened last December, I really don’t, but you need to work through it. It’s totally changed you. You used to be...”
Her lips tightened again. “What? I used to be what, Jesse? Naive? Trusting? You’ll bet your damned ass I was, and then I learned how stupid it was of me to trust someone I barely even knew.” She shook her head. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about this, and I’m busy. If you want the flowers, take the damned things. In fact, if any more come for me, then don’t even bring them in, just keep them for yourself.”
He frowned but stepped into the office. When he bent down to retrieve the blossoms, he didn’t immediately leave when they were in his hand. She frowned back at him, then glowered when she saw he was reading the card.
“Who’s Gabriel? I thought you were dating Terry?”
Feeling her nostrils flare with rage, a move that always pissed her off more because it made her look like a rabid bull, she snapped, “Get the hell out of here, Jesse. Now!”
Apparently he saw the nostrils, too, because he obeyed for once, disappearing out of her sight in seconds.
Swallowing back her fury, a fury Jesse had triggered by raking up memories she didn’t want to recall, Meg bridged her fingers together and then cracked them. The satisfying pop of her knuckles didn’t ease her tension, so she stretched her shoulders and sought the calm she’d had before Jesse had barged in and ruined her peace.
“Terry’s in the past,” she whispered to herself when peace wasn’t forthright in coming. “Gabe is in the past. You need to get over this, Meg.”
The words on her screen blurred. Whether it was through tears or fatigue, she wasn’t sure.
The shocking blow of all those months ago was something she was finding impossible to reconcile. Her boyfriend of six years, and supposedly part-time Sir of two, had been passing her off to another guy who could dominate her while Terry went off and was dominated himself.
Even thinking about it was enough to give her a migraine. The logistics alone, never mind the deceit, had her cringing. When she took said deceit into consideration then came the pain of loss.
Terry had been...well, he’d been harmless. At least that was what she’d originally believed. Yet he'd caused her more pain than any other man she'd ever dated.
So, not so harmless.
She'd never had trust issues before. Her forays into dating had always been relatively painless. Time had pulled them apart, or sheer lack of interest. She hadn't been left to deal with this agonizing sense of betrayal.
When her phone rang, she reached for it out of habit. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially not anyone on her personal cell, but her fingers still connected the call.
“Meg here.”
“Meg, Jesse just called me. What’s going on?”
Gritting her teeth and ruing the day when she’d listened to Sam and hired his close friend Jesse, because the two of them were in cahoots against her, she mumbled, “Can’t I have a momen
t to myself?”
“Uh, yeah,” Sam snapped. “What do you think we’ve been doing these last couple of months? Letting you come to terms with what that shithouse did to you. But, and it’s a huge but, Meg, girl, you need to get on with life.”
Stunned, and pissed off, she bit out, “You don’t know what it’s like to trust someone like I did, Sam. You just...” She blew out a breath, suddenly weary at being so goddamn hurt by what her ex had done. “I trusted him with me. Every part of me,” she whispered. “I gave him my everything, and he passed me off like I was a candy bar.”
“Terry was a jerk. I told you that. In fact, I told you that every single one of the six years you wasted on the schmuck.”
“Saying I told you so doesn’t brighten my mood, Sam. Just FYI.”
He grunted. “I didn’t think it would, but sometimes, you need a kick in the ass, and I’m giving it to you. I want you to get off work, and I want you to come to the bar.”
“No,” she groaned. “I can’t do that. In the first place, I have shit I need to finish up here, and secondly, because I’m not in the mood to watch men shake their ass in my face.”
“Holy hell, now I am worried. Christ, I think we need to phone a shrink!”
“Shut up,” she groused. “I’m just not... I don’t want to watch strippers, that’s all.”
“I don’t want you to come down for that. I want you to come and get slaughtered with me.”
“It’s Wednesday afternoon,” she chided, but a smile quirked along her lips at his irresponsibility.
Sam was like a big kid sometimes. Except this big kid could drink more than his body weight. At least it seemed like that sometimes—mostly when it was her turn to foot the drink bill.
“So? Hump days were made for getting pissed.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure. Tell that to the Romans who made our calendars.”
“Stop being a smarty-pants, and get your ass down here!”
“Didn’t you listen to a word I said?”
“Yeah, I did, but I ignored it. Come on, Meg, you need to talk this through. The time of shoving it to the back of your mind is over, because it isn’t working. You’re not dealing with whatever it is you’re dealing with.”
“You know the shitty details; what more is there to say?”
“No. I know what you’ve told me...Terry is a shit; he pulled a stunt, and he cheated on you. That’s it. All of it.”
She blinked. “You mean...” Her mouth worked a second. Had she really not shared the horrible details with her best friend in the entire world?
Almost like he’d read her mind, he grumbled, “I can’t believe I’ve had to wait this long for you to share the news anyway! When Derek cheated on me, you were the first to know.”
Hell, she had been. And she’d been the one turning up on his doorstep at 3am with too many tubs of Haagen Daaz ice cream and a bottle of JD that hadn’t lasted the few hours remaining until morning.
“Christ, Sam, I thought I’d told you.” She covered her face with a hand. “Why do you think I haven’t been able to look you in the eye for the last few months?”
“What?” he shrieked. “Are you being serious? I’ve told you the worst moments of my life. Hell, you even know my come-out story, and you can’t share your shit with me? Honey, now I’m offended. You get your skinny butt here so I can whoop it. Don’t make me come after you. You know I will.”
Hiding a smile, then realizing he wasn’t there to see it so grinning anyway, she mumbled, “I really shouldn’t.”
“You really should. I want to know what’s going on in that fucked-up head of yours, sugar.”
She sniffed. “You know how to say the nicest things.”
“I know, it’s an art form.”
“I’ll be there in twenty,” she groused and put the phone down before he could gloat.
With a sigh, she shut down her computer for the night, saving the files she’d have to work on in the morning, and began to pack up her desk.
Owning her own business meant she could do whatever she wanted without feeling guilty, but that didn’t stop her from wincing when she locked her office and saw Jesse peering at her in surprise.
“You’re actually going?” he blurted out.
“Sam can be persuasive.”
“Oh, that’s something you don’t have to tell me, sweetie, but I didn’t think he’d manage it.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you make a bet with him?” When he blanked his face of all expression, she folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll get you back. You have been warned.”
Jesse shrugged. “It will be worth it to get you to go and talk to Sam. Maybe once you get whatever it is off your chest, you’ll feel better. Don’t worry about the office,” he carried on, not letting her speak. “I’ll lock up at five and keep things ticking while you’re gone.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?”
He grinned. “I’ll play my music extra loud while you’re gone.”
She smiled back at him. “You do that. Thanks for this, Jesse.”
“It’s what you pay me for, but it’s also a pleasure. I don’t like to see you like this.” He frowned at her, his concern palpable. “I’m sure you’ve lost weight, and you look tired and unhappy all the time. That’s not you, Meg. It’s not you at all.”
She wanted to ask if being fat was her, but rather than being catty when his worry was genuine, she murmured, “Let’s see what miracles Sam can pull, eh?”
Winking at him, she swept out of the small office and into the front of the wedding shop she owned. Nodding at one of her shop girls, a woman by the name of Hanna, who was showing off a range of colored roses, which were new to their lines, she eyed her domain for a second.
Her store was prime real estate in Sandhaven. Right on the main street, a great flow of traffic, and while the town itself was growing and becoming popular with commuters, which added to her clientele, it was also becoming popular with tourists. Several high-end hotels had popped up along the coastline, and with it, they brought couples looking to get married on the beach.
Most of the hotels had their own wedding planners and such, but a lot of the brides preferred a personal touch. Which was where she came in.
The store was large, filled with flowers on one side, as well as bouquets and fancy table displays, a large array of their designer dresses on the other. They had a small selection of party gifts and ideas, jewelry guarded behind a glass case—anything from rings for couples looking to get married on the hoof, to tiaras for the big day itself.
It was a one-stop shop for anyone’s wedding needs, but she’d done it with the upper end of the market in mind. Everything was tastefully done, offsetting the cream and biscuit walls with golden accents, and blending the lovely sharpness of the mahogany furniture used to display the wares.
She was proud of what she’d accomplished and had even planned her own wedding to Terry at the plantation desk that had seen and heard the organizational details of close to two thousand ceremonies.
The thought made her wince at the time she'd spent on planning something that would never come to fruition, but she forced a smile at the couple Hanna was attending as she made her way out of the store.
The bell rang as the door opened and closed behind her, and she hovered outside the shopfront to pull her sunglasses from her bag. The heat of the day was at its peak and the sun shone high overhead, its glare making her squint. By the time she'd perched her shades on the bridge of her nose, and when she looked up, she was no longer alone and whoever it was, was close.
In her personal space close.
The shadow had diminished some of the glaring brightness of the sun, and as this shadow was mobile, she braced herself when she peered up into ‘its’ face.
Meg didn’t know what she’d been expecting. A robber? A mugger? A friend?
What she saw made her freeze, because it was far worse than any ordinary thief. It was the bastard who had stolen her faith in h
uman nature, and she feared, her heart.
Chapter Two
Husky-blue eyes pierced Meg to the quick, and she was grateful for the shades that covered her own. They shielded her surprise at seeing him, as well as the dismay she felt at Gabe’s presence.
He was the last person she wanted to see, especially with the conversation she was about to have with Sam. Raking up the past seemed to have brought those memories to life. And that was something she could ill afford.
“What are you doing here?”
Her voice was half-squeak and half-shout but controlling the tenor was so far out of her capabilities, it was a joke.
He sighed. The bastard. “I’m here to see you, of course.”
“I don’t want to see you,” she snapped and took a step back from him. He was too close for comfort. Her comfort. “Why aren’t you giving up on this? Are you trying to make this worse? Because that's all pestering me is doing.”
Gabe lifted a hand and ran it through his hair. The move jerked the white tee shirt he wore away from his waistband, exposing a sliver of tanned and taut belly. His jeans were stone-washed, and they clung to his thick thighs. She knew if he turned around, she’d see the most luscious ass being cupped by soft denim. Even when she'd been dating his brother, she hadn't been totally immune to Gabe's looks.
She wanted to scream at herself for finding the man attractive, when what he’d done had been beyond reprehensible. But no matter what she did, how hard she fought it, that latent attraction wouldn’t go away.
He’d trained her to react to him, to respond. It seemed crazy, but he had. The scent of him was so familiar, the feel of him against her like the touch of her own hand. It seemed impossible that she hadn’t been able to discern the numerous differences between Terry and Gabe when there were thousands of them, but she’d been naive, had never questioned it if something had felt off.
Why would she?
She’d trusted her bastard of an ex.
Swallowing back the arousal that came from being in his presence wasn’t too hard when she was reminded of what Gabe had done to her. Of how he’d tricked her. Of how he'd been in cahoots with his brother to completely decimate her ability to have faith in and to trust another man.
Secrets & Lies: A Domestic Discipline Novella Page 2