Taken

by Jennifer Dawson

  The type of women I enjoy get off on being told they’re property, that they belong to you. It’s part of their nature. I’ve always fed into that nature because that’s what I was supposed to do.

  This is different.

  There was something dirty and intense about it. The way it got us off.

  I don’t even know how to articulate it.

  She stirs, her legs shift against mine and she rolls into me, throwing her arm around my waist and nuzzling into my neck.

  I pull her closer. When I kiss her temple, she makes a contented kitten sound that makes my cock hard. I’ve never had a woman in my bed before, and Veronica feels like she belongs here.

  She presses closer, puts her thigh on my hip and angles so my erection brushes her slickness. I put a hand on her waist and tease her clit with the head of my cock. She purrs against me and I smile, dipping down to her ear, I whisper, “You have a greedy cunt.”

  She works her hips, sliding along my shaft. “I can’t explain it.”

  “Try.” I lean down and suck on the curve of her neck.

  “It’s like a need.” She gasps as I enter her, soft, slow and shallow, nothing but a tease. “I just want you inside me.”

  Keeping my strokes light, I bend down to whisper in her ear, “Mine.”

  She melts.

  And I stop thinking for the rest of the night.

  20

  Veronica

  “Veronica, this is your mother.” Her refined voice fills the line, and I pause fiddling with my hair and straighten.

  “Hi, Mom.” I haven’t spoken to her since our last argument, and it appears she’s finally broken. “How have you been?”

  “Let me cut right to the chase.” Her tone is the one she used when I was a teenager and wasn’t happy. It used to work back then, but I find it has no effect on me now.

  “Yes, let’s.” I walk out of the bathroom where I’m getting ready to go to the Cubs game with Brandon and his friends. A day I’ve been looking forward to, and I hope she doesn’t manage to ruin for me.

  “Your father is quite unhappy with you.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” It’s not like I can ignore the obvious. I’m not sure how long he’ll continue not speaking to me, but he’s stubborn and doesn’t like to be defied, so I’m not expecting much.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were working for that man?” She utters the words like they are something foul. “Imagine my embarrassment when I learned about your employment during lunch at the club. I had to pretend I knew all about it, and it put me in an awkward position.”

  I straighten my shoulders. No matter how old I get, no matter how many choices I make, my parents still have the power to make me feel like a child. “Daddy and you aren’t speaking to me, why would I have told you?”

  “Because you’re our daughter.”

  I sigh. “Then act like it, instead of ostracizing me. I’m not going to back down, I’m not going to stop what I’m doing, you’ll either accept it, or not talk to me. But that’s your choice, not mine.” I don’t want to deal with it today. All I want is to have fun with Brandon and his friends.

  There’s a silence over the line and I can practically hear her thinking. “Veronica, why, out of all the places to use your talents, would you take a job from Brandon Townsend. You know what people say about him.”

  The buzzer for my door rings and I walk over and let the man in question in. We’ve been inseparable since our night together, and despite all the sex we’ve had, my heart quickens at the thought of him. Into the phone, I say, “There’s only one reason, because I wanted to, isn’t that enough?”

  “But his reputation.” She hisses the words.

  “Nobody minds his reputation when they want to make money off him.” It’s the truth. He might not be a part of us anymore, but they are all salivating for a piece of him anyway, if they admit it or not. I point out something my mother can’t deny. “His family is one of the most prestigious in all of Chicago. You should be happy I’ve been offered a job.”

  There’s a knock on the door and I open it, allowing him in. I put my fingers on my lips and mouth. “Mother.”

  He nods, and his gaze sweeps over me. I’m wearing a white sleeveless romper with a red woven belt around my waist and matching shoes. He’s in jeans and a Cubs shirt and looks absolutely mouthwatering.

  “That job is beneath you. Is that what you’re doing with your education? You went to Harvard, Veronica.” But I’m already distracted away from my mother’s words.

  He steps close and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into his embrace to brush his lips across mine. I hook my fingers into the waistband of his jeans to keep him near and meet his eyes. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  His gaze darkens.

  My mom says, “You know you’re ruining your father’s deal. You need to make amends with Winston.”

  Brandon’s expression flashes, and he grips me tighter, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “Over my dead, fucking body.”

  A smile flirts over my lips. I don’t know if it’s wrong or not, but I love his possession. His claim over me. It does something to my insides, making me want to melt and fuck simultaneously. I lean into him and speak into the phone. “I’m sorry, but if Daddy’s deal hinges on me marrying Winston, maybe it’s not a great deal to begin with.” I close my eyes as Brandon hugs me tight, and I forget myself. “In fact, someone needs to tell Winston to stop harassing me.”

  Brandon jerks back and studies my expression, frowning.

  “He just wants to talk to you, Veronica, you owe him that.”

  Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve made no mention to anyone about my problems with Winston. I don’t want Brandon to know. He’ll worry, and I can deal with it on my own. It’s my problem, not his. My brain spins, as I search for a way to answer my mom, but not alarm Brandon.

  But he takes the decision away from me by plucking the phone out of my fingers and saying to my mother. “This is Brandon Townsend, and no, she does not owe him.”

  I twist, attempting to get the phone away from him, but he locks his arms around mine, trapping me.

  I hear my mother’s voice. “Put my daughter back on the phone.”

  “I will, in a moment. This isn’t the way I would have chosen to introduce myself, but we don’t always get an option. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Westwood, I know you don’t know me, but you can trust I have Veronica’s best interest at heart. So understand this, Winston Bishop is not to come near her again. Please make it clear to everyone involved his presence in her life is no longer welcome.”

  My mom sputters. “This is none of your concern.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Veronica, and everything that involves her, is precisely my concern.”

  I still.

  The line goes silent.

  Brandon runs his mouth over my neck, releases me, and then hands the phone back. I take it and my voice is a bit breathless when I speak. “Everything’s good, Mom.”

  “Veronica, what is your relationship with that man? Whatever it is, will not be tolerated.”

  It doesn’t surprise me, but it still stings. I take a deep breath. “I have to go, I’m running out the door.”

  “When your father finds out about this he will not be happy.”

  “He’s already not happy,” I point out the obvious.

  “Veronica, he is counting on you to make things right with Winston.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” There’s no point in asking why my family seems unconcerned with my happiness. Happiness is not an aspiration in my social circle, business and advancement and standing are all that matters. “Goodbye, Mom.”

  I hang up before she can continue. I shake my head and beam at Brandon. “Sorry about that, are you ready to go?”

  Please let it go. It’s not something I want to talk about. It’s a gorgeous day and I don’t want anything to ruin it. Maybe if I pretend it’s not a big deal Br
andon will not mention it.

  I turn away to grab my purse, but he grips my arm and swings me back around. “Not so fast, girl.”

  I flutter my lashes, hoping to pass for light and breezy. Because I can handle the Winston thing on my own. “We’re going to be late.”

  “I don’t care.” He narrows his eyes on me. “What exactly did you mean about Winston harassing you?”

  Okay, he’s not going to let it slide. While I hoped, I’m not surprised. All I can do is downplay it. I wave my hand. “It’s nothing, I promise. He’s just been a little insistent we talk is all. I’ve been thinking I should agree to meet him and get it over with.”

  “Explain.” His jaw firms into a hard line. “What does a little insistent mean?”

  I shrug, as though it’s not a big deal. “It’s nothing, he keeps calling and texting wanting to talk.”

  “How many times has he called?”

  I tilt my head. “You mean today?”

  A low growl emanates from his throat. “For starters.”

  “I don’t know, a few, I can handle it.” I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip. “Can’t we go enjoy the game?”

  “After you tell me how many fucking times, and I’m not going to take vagueness as an answer.”

  I shake my head. “It’s nothing. It’s not your concern.”

  His expression turns into a storm cloud. “I thought we were clear, but apparently we are not. I’m going to tell you the same thing I told your mother. Everything—and I do mean everything—about you is my concern. So if I ask you a question, I expect an answer. A truthful answer, not evasion. I’m the boss here, not you. Do we understand each other?”

  We stare at each other, gazes locked together. I grit my teeth. “This has nothing to do with sex.”

  Like lightning his hand strikes out, and he circles my neck, pushing me back until I hit a wall and I’m held captive. “This is not a selective arrangement, Veronica. I explained that. You do not get to pick and choose when I exert my control. Your wellbeing is my responsibility, so you either tell me, or I will find out myself. And if I have to find out myself, you can trust you will not like the consequences of forcing me to spend time doing something you could have told me in thirty seconds.”

  I can’t help it, the strength of his power, his hand on my neck, that look in his eyes, it’s distracting me. Making me want him. I already feel that special kind of liquid heat pooling in my belly and warming me all over. I lick my lips. “What will you do?”

  He lowers his face so it’s mere inches from mine and whispers, “I promise it will not be pleasant for you.”

  I’m almost positive this isn’t supposed to set me on fire, but it does.

  His gaze flicks across my features and he shakes his head. “I can see your wheels spinning. Your excitement in what I might do. But trust me, this is not the time to test me and find out. Tell me what I want to know, make me happy. Please me and I’ll make the lust you feel right now child’s play. And when you come, it will be so hard it will hurt.” He shrugs. “Or don’t, and who knows the next time you’ll get an orgasm.”

  A variety of emotions storm through me, warring and waging an inner battle I don’t really understand. But I’m going to give him what he wants, and that’s all that’s important right now. I open my mouth, but before I can speak, he squeezes my neck and says, “Do not sugar coat it, girl. The truth.”

  I nod and his grip loosens. I take a breath and tell him what he wants to know, hoping for the best when I do. “Today he’s called me five times.”

  His blue eyes grow flat and cold. “It’s not even noon.”

  “I know.” I blow out a breath. “I’ve got it under control.”

  “How often has he been contacting you, on average?”

  “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  I shrug. “On how much he’s had to drink.”

  “Give me a rough estimate.”

  I don’t want to, but I’m stuck now. He won’t let it go, and he is best friends with cops, who knows what he’ll be able to find out with their help. I swallow hard. “I’m not sure, between text and calls he’s probably contacting me twenty or so times a day.”

  He releases my neck, sliding his fingers over my jaw, the softness of his touch belying the hardness of his face. “He’s stalking you.”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s not that, he just has never heard the word no before.”

  “Wrong.” He studies me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because it’s not your problem.”

  “Wrong again.” A muscle works in his jaw and he drops his hold on me and begins to prowl across the room, agitation in his step. When he stops, he says, “You and I are going to make an appearance at the Baldwin gala this weekend. Every single person in that circle is going to know you’re mine.” One brow rises. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, Brandon.” Not only do I not have a problem with it, a public pronouncement from him sends a thrill right through me.

  “Good girl.” He prowls back over, grabs me by the upper arms and claims my mouth with his.

  His lips are hungry. His tongue sweeping. It’s possession. In every way.

  His right hand snakes down my side, curling over my hip, before sliding up the hem of my shorts. The fabric is loose and flowy and it doesn’t take him more than a second to slip his fingers into my panties and circle my clit.

  The sensation pulses through me as his fingers relentlessly play, working me up as he takes my mouth. I’ve never been kissed like Brandon kisses me, like sex and sin and the best kind of wickedness.

  He lifts his head, moves to my ear. “I’m going to touch you all day. And I’m going to deny you all day.”

  I whimper. I have no idea why it makes me so hot, I wish it didn’t but, god, it’s the best. I shake my head because already the orgasm is pounding at the door demanding entrance. “No, please.”

  His thumb strokes as he slides two fingers inside. “When you’re wet enough, then we’ll see, but you’re not nearly aroused enough for my tastes.”

  I gasp. I’m so slippery and he knows it. My head falls back against the wall and I arch to meet his hand. “How much more can I be?”

  He nips at my neck. “We’ll find out, now won’t we?”

  As I start to quicken, he pulls away. It makes me so frustrated I scream and punch him on the arm.

  His lips quirk and his brows rise. “Did you just hit me, Veronica?”

  I instantly come to my senses and I snap to attention. “It was your fault, you made me.”

  “Did I?” He steps back and shrugs. “You’ve got to pay now.”

  I shake my head. “I—forgot myself.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind.” He smiles, and it’s pure evil as he reaches for my belt and starts to undo it. “I’ve been looking for a reason to spank that ass of yours, and here it didn’t take you long for you to hand me one.”

  “Brandon, the game.”

  “We have plenty of time.” The belt falls to the floor and he reaches for the thin straps of my romper, and pulls them down my body. He pauses at my breasts, rubbing his knuckles over the hard nipples through my bra.

  Goose bumps break out over my skin, and he continues down his path, stripping me from my nude panties that fall to the floor. He slides his fingers between my legs. “Your cunt is addictive.” He smirks. “And wet, but not wet enough.”

  He tilts his chin. “Get down on your hands and knees.”

  Tension kicks up inside me. “Here?”

  “What’s wrong with here?” His voice is so smooth, so controlled. It should cool me, but it doesn’t, if anything it increases my hunger, especially at the way his blue eyes burn. He puts a hand on my shoulder and presses. “Down you go.”

  My lashes flutter as I contemplate my options, but between the expression on his face and the insistent pressure on my shoulder, I find myself sinking to my knees. I hit the hardwood and satisfaction flashes across hi
s features.

  He nods. “Elbows on the floor, ass up, legs spread.”

  Nerves light across my skin because he’s going to spank me, and I’ve never been spanked before. I lick my dry lips, swallowing hard.

  He strokes a finger over my jaw. “Trust me.”

  I do. More than anyone else he’s the person I trust. With a deep breath I lower to the position he indicated.

  He walks to stand so I can stare down at his shoes. For endless moments he’s still, saying nothing, and as I imagine him watching my prone, stretched-out body, my desire mixes with my unease and transforms into heat. He touches my hair before skimming down the length of my spine, over the curve of my ass. He squeezes, not hard, but enough to make me hyperaware of my position.

  He slides a finger over the seam of my ass, dipping inside to graze along sensitive flesh, he pauses circling over puckered flesh. “Someday, very soon, I’m going to fuck your ass.”

  Involuntarily, I clench. I don’t know why, but the words inflame me, making me ache. Before I can process enough to speak, he moves away, tapping my inner thigh. “Wider.”

  I adjust my legs, and cool air brushes over skin normally hidden. I moan, closing my eyes as he slips his fingers over my slickness. “Very nice, Veronica, but still not wet enough.”

  “Brandon.” His name strangled from my lips.

  He plays over my clit, working me up as I start pushing back to increase the friction. Just when I’m about to tumble over the edge, he moves away.

  I pound my fist against the hardwood, and he laughs, low and wicked.

  He waits for me to cool down before starting again. Over and over. Relentlessly. Until I’m gasping and cursing and begging him. But he doesn’t deliver.

  Slippery wetness slides down my inner thighs, and just when I’ve completely forgotten about anything but him touching me, he pulls back and strikes me, hard and full across my ass.