She stops by the sideboard for a few tokes before returning to the table. She seems to need more than a few tokes and alcohol to let down the thick mantle of tension and intensity she wears.
“So, like I asked, where do I fit into all this?”
I steeple my hands again and let my gaze blaze through her. I manage to keep still but have trouble not fidgeting as I examine her face for crafty subterfuge. Her beauty shines through without the swelling and bruising. Exotic beauty is the only word I have for it. With her high cheekbones and large wide eyes, she reminds me of an Egyptian princess.
“It’s not like I’m asking to have a ‘thing’ with you or anything like that.”
“What exactly are you asking, then?”
“Do you even like me? Do you even want to spend time with me?”
Her tone jumps half an octave. Her eyes flash with insecurity and longing before she lowers her gaze. I love spending time with her. Something from deep within her pulls me. No one has elicited such a reaction from me. Not even Savannah. I shove that idea back where it belongs. I have no fucking idea what I want. I have no promises to make.
“I’m no good for you. I don’t do love, and people near me get hurt.” A stab of pain jolts through me. I study the remains of the steak dinner sitting before me. Savannah. Her name screams through my thoughts. I lift my wine glass and study its contents. Rayne leans forward, as if to reach out to me, then leans back. Thank God for that. I’m not ready for her affection or pity. It feels too much like making a promise.
What the hell do you say to someone who’s been treated like shit all her life and only wants a break? Only wants someone to treat her like the beautiful creature she is.
She does the only thing she knows how to do … gets straight to the point.
“I know you loved her, but you need to get one thing straight.”
My heart fills with the shadow of grief before I can stop it. This time she does touch my hand.
“I’m so sorry, Jaden. I don’t mean to hurt you. I can be such a shit sometimes.”
The edges of the sexual tension between us soften as her eyes fill with empathy. I feel her under my skin, searching, feeling my loss. I haven’t decided if this is a gift or a curse. I don’t know whether to yank my hand back or pull her into my arms. I stay still and let her warmth nourish me in the silence. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t keep her safe. The litany goes round and round in my head. Until Rayne’s throaty voice blows me into the next stratosphere.
“I’m not Savannah. I can look after myself.”
One of the chains locking my heart bursts free. Could it be? Time to dwell on that later. “Why do you do that?” I can’t let her self-debasement go this time, not if we’re going to go forward together.
She grabs the base of her neck. “Do what?” She seems genuinely baffled.
“Put yourself down. Just about every time you talk about yourself, you say something negative.”
She juts that chin out, defiant. “That’s not true. For example, I’ve told you how good I am with computers.” She gives her “so there” nod.
“You really are an argumentative one.” I expect her to deflate. Instead, she seems vindicated.
“See, even you can’t find anything good to say about me.”
“That’s untrue.” I throw the sentence in the air, letting it collect her wishful thinking. Her eyebrows fly toward the ceiling. She shoots me a questioning glance. I refuse to bite. Let her chew on that for a while.
“So, what exactly is it that I need to get straight?”
She looks startled like she’s lost her train of thought. She walks over to the sideboard and lights up another joint. Buying time. She sits back down and takes a few hauls before passing the doobie to me. Her face lights up.
“I’m not Savannah, and you’re not the boss of me.” She sits back, triumphant.
“Then, who will be? We’re going on a mission. Someone has to be in charge, make sure we don’t get killed. It makes sense that it’s me. I’ve done this before and know the rules. You haven’t.”
Now she sits forward, animated. She positively glows with intensity when she forgets herself. As if every neuron in her body lights up. As if any moment she’ll morph into something ethereal. But I see the submission beneath that bold exterior. Lots to discover.
“Doesn’t matter. I learn fast.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
“That we’re partners, pure and simple. We make the decisions together. We keep each other informed about all parts of the mission.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’ve seen the movies. One guy always hides something from the others because he thinks it’s his God-given right. Next thing you know, his partner gets kidnapped or killed because he refused to be forthcoming.”
“This isn’t a movie. Hiding things can get you killed.”
She nods, sagely. “Exactly my point. We need to be partners. So, do I have your word?”
Her persistence drills through my defenses. What will it hurt to give it a try? After all, she knows what she’s getting into.
I give it a moment, then nod. “Equal partners for everything but one.”
There go those eyebrows. “Which is?”
“When it comes to our … your exploration of sexuality, I call the shots.”
Red suffuses her face, and she makes a careful study of the remnants of wine in her glass. “What exactly does that mean?”
Now it’s time to play. I take a few tokes of my own while I figure out just how I’m going to approach this. I turn back to face her. She’s watching me. On edge. Ready to run for the hills. I settle myself on the chaise longue and crook my finger. She takes her time crossing the room and perches on the edge of the chair. She’s stiff, muscles pulled tight. I can almost feel her mind spinning.
“What do you think it means?”
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she stiffens even more and jerks her body to glare at me. “You know how much I hate you answering a question with a question.”
“Well then, I guess we’re at a standstill.” I brush aside the split fabric on her dress and run my finger up her thigh. She shivers. Glares again. Huffs.
“It probably means you get to say when, where, and how we have sex. It probably means I have no say. It probably means you’re going to treat me like a piece of masturbation meat. It—”
Now it’s my turn to be indignant. “Whoa, Nelly. Since when have I ever asked you to do something against your will? I have never forced or even nudged a woman toward sex. Never have and never will. I don’t need to. Plenty of willing recipients at the Masquerade.”
“Then why aren’t you with one of them? Why me?”
Good question. There she goes again, edging me toward commitment, just like most do. It’s my turn to be pissy. “I’ve told you I like you, and I’m here. What more do you need?”
“Absolutely nothing.” Talk about pissy.
She huddles in misery for a few beats. I let my affront lower a notch or two. Maybe all she craves is friendship. Maybe I’m being an asshole. Maybe?
She sighs, long and deep, then turns fully to look at me.
“Connor says you saved my life. I never thanked you. I don’t know how to repay you.” She reaches a tiny, tentative hand toward my chest. I grab her wrist.
“Never do that again.” I jerk hard on her wrist … harder than I intend. She falls to the floor. I leap from the chaise. Shit. She looks up at me, nine-tenths the wounded animal, but one-tenth of that ferocity burns behind her eyes. I kneel beside her.
“Don’t ever use sex as a commodity with me. Either do it because you want it, or don’t do it at all. I’m not interested in women who use their bodies as currency.”
Her eyes simply blaze with indignation. “I was just going to ask you about your arm.”
I study her. Is she trying to distract me? Change the subject? She’s got to know I can see through her bullshit. “It’s just fin
e. Healing nicely, thank you. And how’s your leg?”
“Just fine, thank you,” she says, echoing the cultured English tone right back at me.
She gets up from the floor and moves to the sideboard. Shoulders hunch over as she pulls on the Sensi, inhaling deeply. I lean against the wall, watching. Waiting. She has the next move. Good bloody thing I like stillness.
At long last, she squares her shoulders and turns to face me. Comes to within a foot of me and stops dead. Puts those hands I’d love to have wrapped around my cock on her hips.
“Look, Jaden. I don’t know what you expect of me.” She takes a deep breath. “Hell, I don’t know what to expect of me. I don’t know what’s normal, all right. I’ve been abused since I was eleven or so. I’ve had to work. I’ve had to be a mother to Summer. I’ve had—”
I put my index finger across her lips. She startles.
“I’m aware of your story. Is there a point in there somewhere?”
Those eyes throw sparks my way. “So give me a break if I don’t know what normal is.”
My gut clenches, and I quickly clamp down on my feelings. I want to kill each and every man who used my little dragon. Who made her think her body is worthless except as a bargaining chip. But I can’t let her inside this part of my head.
She tilts her head to the side, then she crosses to the chaise longue, perching on the edge. Totally closed off.
“What?” I have no fucking clue what set her off now.
“You put your shields up. I get it. You don’t want me. That’s okay.” She waves a hand through the air as if she’s the Ethiopian queen Makeda. Like she’s the one blowing me off. The one in charge. Another finger of delight worms its way through my heart. I would show my little dragon what it means to be wanted and cherished. Sexually. I can do this without losing my heart. I’ll show her the path to freedom and untether her. I will die when she spreads her wings and flies away. I shake the thought away.
I sit beside her. Slide my index finger from the tip of her shoulder down her bare arm. She shivers. My cock lengthens.
“Oh, I want you, little dragon. And I think you want me. We never did finish with the rules.”
44
Rayne
Baby, get it all straight; baby don’t leave it too late—wake up …
Jaden slides behind me on the chaise longue. Large thighs embrace mine. The fireplace flames dance a pattern of light across the caramel of my arms. He places an index finger on each shoulder tip, then runs them lightly down my arms. I almost swoon.
“Oh, I want you, little dragon. And I think you want me. We never did finish with the rules.”
His tongue draws a delicate line along the back of my ear. Heat rushes everywhere.
No, goddammit. I would not make it this easy. Jaden shuts down on me whenever he goddamn well pleases. Well, two could play that game. I shrug my shoulders. He wraps those hands around my biceps.
“You don’t like rules, do you, Dracaena?” His hot breath sends another torrent of shivers running through me.
A huge net catches my voice in my throat. “No.” I sound about as sexy as a frog in heat. I clear my throat, determined to stay on top of this man.
“Yet you have so many of your own,” he purrs in my ear. Wet starts to ooze between my legs. Embarrassing. I cross my ankles.
He places a large hand on my inner thigh, gently moving my legs apart. “Don’t hide from me, little dragon. You’re too beautiful to hide.”
Oh shit. I’m gushing now. And pissed off at my lack of self-control. In one effortless movement, he pulls me back against him as he settles on the chaise thingy. Fuck, he’s graceful. But I can’t think about him. I need to concentrate on my own breathing. That and making sure he doesn’t take advantage of me. You know he won’t. I punch BG aside. She obviously doesn’t have the best common sense. I sit up and turn to face him. “What are these rules, pray tell?”
Now he’s running several fingers up and down my good thigh. Damn Kat. I should never have let her talk me into wearing this. BG is simply delighted.
“I told you. With our sex, I get to call the shots. With your Sub training program, I get to call the shots.”
“Nuh-uh, not with my training program.” I hang on to this as if it’s a life preserver. After all, who knows what he might throw me into? Like, I have no idea how kinky this man is. Who knows? I try to ignore the curls of excitement running through my clit and vagina. No, under no circumstances …
“I tell you what, why don’t we give it a trial run tonight. You always have your safe words. Use them if you’re not happy with anything I’m doing.”
I look at him curiously. Safe words. But if I can use the safe words, that puts me in control. I eye him warily. Men can be such bastards of deceit. “Oh right, like I haven’t heard that before and lived to regret it.” I haven’t, and Jaden knows it, but no need to bring that up now. The edges of that magnificent mouth quirk.
“How do I know you’ll stop?”
Those amber eyes study me for a moment, eyes filled with heat and something else I can’t identify. He places my hands on his chest, one directly over his heart. He cups my cheeks ever so gently and pulls my face down to within a hair of his. Fuck … It’s a Vulcan mind meld. I freeze as the heat from his lips meets mine. Yet, they don’t touch. We don’t move.
He lets the shields down. Lust and something dark and needy almost obliterate my senses. Underneath, a beacon of honesty and integrity shines through. This man’s word is his bond. I can trust him, implicitly.
“Because I give you my word.”
I become liquid as the depth of his feelings bursts through me. There is no end to the solid base of his belief. You have the ultimate say. His thought rings through my head. I want him to kiss me so badly, but he just sits there, in suspended animation. I twitch; I ache to move.
“Any other rules?” I breathe the question out, unsure whether he hears me.
He pulls back, and I almost blanch at the intensity of his gaze. “Just one, but it’s an extension of the ultimate rule. And what is that?” He holds my head tight in his grasp.
I can play dumb. I should play dumb. Guys hate smart chicks.
“Tell the truth.” The words leap from my mouth before I can stop myself.
Something about this man turns me into a puddle of verbal diarrhea.
He tips my head back a fraction, studies me intently. “And?”
Frig. And what? “Master?” My voice jumps thirty-seven octaves as I wimp out on hopeful.
That damned eyebrow does its thing again. “Not quite.”
I shut out that penetrating gaze for a moment. He might not be an empath, but it sure feels like he’s inside my head sometimes. I breathe … one, two, three … and it hits me.
“Always tell the truth.”
Those lips descend on mine. He kisses me for an eternity. Until I’m gasping for air. Until I feel like I’ll fly through the sky on the magic carpet of his longing. He pulls back. He’s not even breathing hard. The bastard. I give a nod to my love-hate affair with the knife-edge of his control while I bask in the freedom from mine. He walks me over to the edge of the bed, unzipping my dress, pushing the straps off my shoulders and over my hips. I step out of the puddle at my feet. I stand naked except for the lace sleeve covering my scar.
Jaden stands in front of me, motionless. Waiting. Giving me control over what is to come. Proving he is a man of his word, that I can trust him implicitly. I bow my head. He takes off his clothes. We stand naked and close.
“Show me what it is you want.” He runs his fingers under the soft swell of my breasts. “Not what you think I want. I won’t be your excuse.” He pushes his body hard against mine. “Tell me.” The command hardens my clit. I stand frozen, stupefied. Nobody has ever cared what I want, so I haven’t given it a moment‘s thought.
I want it fast and hard. I want you to suck me until I scream. Then I want you to fuck me until I beg you to die. I’m too fucking horny to shut
down my own melodrama. Right about now, I wish he were a telepath and could read my thoughts.
“I want you to take away bad memories.” I want to give myself to you.
He murmurs as his tongue continues its journey down the side of my neck. “And just how would you like me to do that?”
I say nothing; after all, what is there to say? No way in this world am I going to tell a man what I want. Only sluts do stuff like that. I push the thought back in the closet. I want to be with this man. Feel the pleasure he can give me.
A growl ignites a flood of adrenaline. My eyes fly open.
“One more rule. You stay with me, and only with me. Got it?” He slides his hand over my breast and tweaks my nipple.
Oh, I got it, all right. Don’t make a sound. Don’t react. Speech is beyond me. I moan.
“And how would you like me to do that?” He pulls me onto the bed until I lie on top of him, his enormous erection prodding my stomach. He kisses me again, sucking the life right out of me. Turning me into molten lava. Please don’t make me say it. Just do it. Just don’t make me think. My body screams for him to take charge, blowing away any degree of caution.
“I’ll tell you what I think you want. You want me to use my tongue to make you writhe and squirm.”
He rolls me onto my back and latches onto one nipple, then the other, paying homage. There is no other word for the absolute eternity of sucking and nibbling. When I’m almost panting, he comes up for air. He cups the back of my head in his hand searching my eyes with his.
“You want me to taste just how delicious you are, to feast on your rapture. You want me to take you to a place you’ve never been before. And then what, Dracaena? Can you tell me what you want then?”
I want you to plunge your cock inside me. Hard. Don’t stop. Even if I flinch. Just ride through it with me. Take me to another place. But I can’t say it. I breathe hard, almost gasping. He slides his hand underneath and grabs my butt cheek, sending another set of shockwaves rippling through my system. He uses my butt to rock my vulva against his hip. Wet flows down my thighs. I sigh against his lips. He pulls my head up.
Rage (A Jaden Rayne Adventure Book 1) Page 28