by Jax Garren
By the time she’d finished her tirade, Paul had his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You never do when you glance at somebody and make judgments.”
He ran a hand through his hair as he made a gruff sound of frustration. “You’re not just pretty or rich. You are sexy and smart and fearless. You say what you think no matter what.” He gave her a rueful smile. “You even tell me when my songs suck.”
She shot back archly, “Sometimes your songs do suck.” She shook her head, cooling her temper. “Mostly they’re pretty damn good, but nobody’s perfect.”
“Yeah, but you deserve as close as it gets.” His voice still sounded petulant, but she could hear him winding down. He was giving up.
One more reiteration. It did Paul no favors to leave him with hopes. “Hauk has every quality that matters to me.”
He drew in a thick breath and crossed his arms. It was done. “Yeah, well, I guess you’re pretty enough for the both of you.”
She chuckled softly. “You know it.” With a forced smile he held his arms out, and she took the offered hug. “I had a lot of fun.”
He squeezed her tightly, patted her back twice and let go. “So did I.” He averted his face. “Now I think I’m going to raid your liquor cabinet one more time and head out.”
“Have at it.”
His back was a little more rigid, his gait a little more hurried, but otherwise Paul held it together as he turned his back on her and headed for the door. Jolie took a shaky breath. She’d had men take it a lot worse.
The door opened. “Hey,” Paul said. “It’s the lucky asshole.”
Hauk stood in the doorway, mouth gaping. He’d clearly been listening, but the dazed look on his face said he didn’t care that they’d caught him. Unsure what he’d heard, Jolie faked casual, but anxiety rolled through her stomach and up her throat. She’d called him “the one.” He might have said he loved her, but he’d never said anything like that.
His eyes found hers. To her surprise, the depth of emotion in them soothed instead of disquieted her further. Still, she cocked her head, asking with a glance what the hell he was doing spying on them.
Paul observed the interchange, a hint of regret in his eyes. With a nod, he left.
Hauk watched him go.
“Eavesdropping? Really?”
His head whipped back to her, a tiny smile breaking through the shell-shock. “And you found out I was previously engaged how?” He stepped into her room and shut the door.
She frowned. “You were in a public place.”
He kept approaching, his eyes so hungry it made her blood pulse faster.
“And...I dropped down from the ceiling to a spot where you couldn’t see me,” she admitted. “How much did you hear?” She’d been too honest in her haste to get rid of Paul. Her ears burned and her mouth had parched with embarrassment.
Instead of answering, he scooped her up. “Thank you.” His voice was hushed with relief. “Thank you, thank you.”
The intensity of his naked emotion eased the discomfort with her own soul, stripped too bare. She might have said he was the one, but he’d designed a rose ring and written a poem that she’d reread until she had it memorized. If those were for her, he felt the same way. If they were a meaningless pretty...
Unable to meet his eyes, she wrapped her arms and legs around his torso and nestled her face into his neck. “Don’t thank me. It was an entirely selfish decision on my part.”
A wordless sound somewhere between a laugh and a choke came from him as he squeezed her tighter.
She nuzzled up the rough skin of his right side until she reached his ear and lightly bit the lobe between two spikes. Lust was an emotion they shared in equal measure. That made it safe. She swirled her tongue around the piercing, loving the feel of skin meeting metal. Hauk and his many textures was part of her fun. “I have plans to make you pay for it later anyway.”
“Anything.”
“I’ll remember you said that.”
A wash of panic crossed his features.
She raised an eyebrow. “No take-backs on my birthday.”
* * *
He still hadn’t completed the leg. The gods knew he wanted to give her whatever she desired. He wasn’t sure how much of what she’d said was true and how much she’d said just to convince Paul to back down, but either way her words had been shelter from the night’s barrage.
The whole party she’d claimed him publicly, from dancing to kisses, and now with Paul. She never hesitated or acted the least ashamed to have Hauk at her side. For that alone, he wanted to give her anything, tiny to gargantuan, that she asked for.
But his leg wasn’t just about pride. Until the gears were properly shielded, he was afraid of hurting her.
Her thighs unclenched from around him, and reluctantly he let her hop to the ground. “We should get back to the party,” she said. “I’m the guest of honor, after all, and I’m pretty sure Mercy’s about to surprise me with some churros-inspired gluten-free cake.”
That startled Hauk into a smile. Mercy had done just that. “What makes you think so?” He let her lead him toward the door.
“Eh, just a guess. But I’m uncannily accurate when it comes to these things. Now, I need my boyfriend to get back onto the dance floor with me. And then, after everyone’s gone, we can celebrate my birthday again.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced back at the bed, wishing he could pull her into it right now and find out all the ways she wanted to celebrate in private. He still couldn’t completely let go of the nerves being physical with her gave him. But it was time he moved past it and let them enjoy each other as they should. Starting tonight.
Chapter Fifteen
Alcohol buzzed through Hauk’s system, relaxing his body and fuzzing his mind. The last of the guests finally stepped into the elevator. Good riddance. If they’d stayed five minutes longer, he was going to boot their asses into the elevator shaft, regardless of what floor the carriage was on.
He hung back as they left, trying not to lurk in the shadows like a creeper. Jolie blew kisses and exchanged good-byes. When the doors started to close, she grabbed his shirt and yanked him against her back, forcing them together for the final goodbye. Like he was co-host presenting some domestic tableau of farewell.
Before the doors had even finished sliding shut, she launched into his arms. “Take me to bed.”
Better words had never been spoken. He crushed a kiss against her mouth, and she responded with equal fervor. She tasted of tequila and lime, her body already hot against his fingers. Her heels beat against his ass; her tongue wrestled with his. Gods, he needed her. Now.
Determined not to stumble, he started down the hallway.
“Lights. Lights,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Where are they?”
She waved toward the computer screen that controlled everything in the condo, and he carried her that way. At the push of a button, the lights in the condo went off. Moonlight streamed through the windows, hiding the remains of the party in shadows and giving him all the light he needed to take her back to the bedroom.
Alone at last.
With each step, his heart fluttered in nervous excitement. He had no idea what she planned, but he knew he both dreaded and desperately wanted it.
As they crossed the threshold to her room, lips once again locked together, she released him to struggle with the zipper of her dress. He helped her ease it down over the arch of her back to the curve of her ass. Her body slid down his, pressing against his erection. He groaned. She tried to step away, but he wouldn’t let her.
“I get to take it off this time.” She had a tendency to remove her own clothing. Damn burlesque dancer.
He touched the back of her thigh, rubbing his thumb across the silk of her hose. He’d be happy with whatever she had on, but secretly hoped she’d done thigh-highs and garters again. She hadn’t worn them since that first night they’d made love
. Part of him feared she wouldn’t again after the way he’d acted.
He gathered the fabric of her full skirt and dragged it slowly up her leg. Thigh-highs ended in lace. Gratified by her choice, he snapped the elastic of her garter belt. She shuddered.
Unable to stand it any longer, he spun her none-too-gently about. She giggled as she turned. Jolie liked a little rough in her tumble. He spread the back of her gown, pushing it over her shoulders and letting it fall. The black cotton pooled at her feet, leaving her body in scraps of black lace.
He groaned. “Turn around.”
She smirked over her shoulder. “I’ll turn, but you’re not calling the shots tonight, babe. Not on my birthday.”
Turn she did, making his heart stutter as her pale skin caught the moonlight. She arched an eyebrow, challenging him, as her hands touched the top button of his shirt. Despite the bravado on her face, her fingers trembled. She feared his rejection.
The realization stabbed at him. His brave girl, the best thing that had ever happened to him, had to fake confidence because of how he’d treated her.
He had to fix this. But it wasn’t as if his reactions were conscious choices. He’d become so programmed to back away from intimacy that it was instinctual at this point. He could choose to trust her intellectually, but his body was a different matter.
Again the fantasy of cuffing her to those sturdy bedposts rose in his imagination. Not once had he imagined the reverse.
But could he do it?
Right now he just had to reassure her she could take his shirt off. That he could do. He ran his palms over the jutting curves of her hips and winked.
Her faux confidence broke into a radiant smile as her fingers made quick work of his buttons. That was what he wanted, his girl feeling happy and free in his presence. Today was her birthday. Tomorrow was D-Day. He was going to give her the night she wanted.
“I got a deal for you,” he said before he could change his mind.
She stopped with his shirt halfway down his arms, a question in her eyes.
“Got a blindfold?” He was getting something out of this deal if she took it.
“Yeah.” She lifted her chin in that little-pampered-princess way that came out on rare occasion. “For whom?”
He grinned and dropped his button-down to the floor. “Who do you think?”
“I’ll assume that’s my concession. What’s yours?”
He shifted his weight back, centering himself, and swallowed. “Got restraints?”
The shock on her face would amuse the hell out of him if he wasn’t so nervous. Her hands squeezed his biceps, and she considered him as if waiting for him to admit he was joking. He almost did.
Apparently deciding to take him seriously, she scampered onto the bed. Leaning sideways over the other edge, ass up in the air, she dug for something underneath.
If Jolie owned something other than a G-string, he’d seen no evidence of it. Which wasn’t a problem as far as he was concerned. Watching those muscular curves sway as she searched under the bed eased some of the tension from his shoulders.
She popped back up and sat on the bed with a brown square of fabric, two pairs of fuzzy leopard-print handcuffs and a lopsided grin. “I’m not really a professional here.”
He took a nervous step forward. “I don’t think we’re going anywhere that requires training.” The fabric she held was familiar. “Is that the blindfold I gave you—”
“The first time I left the Underlight? Yup. I saved it. A souvenir of my first trip down the rabbit hole.”
She crawled across the bed to kneel in front of him, and he pushed a curl behind her ear. “I think you had the most expedited recognition I’ve ever seen. Pretty mean feat, all things considered.” Like her father.
“I think they were afraid you’d drag me down again, regardless of my acceptance,” she teased right back. Her face became serious again as she put the handcuffs between them. “Are you sure?”
The eagerness on her face was unmistakable. She craved this. If it wasn’t her birthday, if tomorrow wasn’t what it was, if he’d had a couple fewer drinks, if, if, if...then he might’ve said no. But he didn’t want to run from her anymore.
He leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers then he touched her lips tenderly with his own. Her hands twined around his neck, and he felt her need. Somehow she needed him. He cupped her face and deepened the kiss. She rose up higher and pressed her body against his. The heat of her skin felt so damn sweet.
When he released her, he looked into her eyes, dark in the moonlight and full of emotion. “No, I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I want to try.”
“Let me know the moment you want out, and I’ll let you go.”
He nodded. “Don’t take the blindfold off.”
She waved it like a flag. “I won’t.”
“This will be a lot easier if I’m not thinking about you looking at me.”
She smiled. “I won’t. I promise.” Her eyes darted around the bed until they settled on the posters at the foot. The curve of her lips became absolutely wicked. “Think you can stretch?”
He focused on her mouth and the sexual promise in it as he headed to the foot of the bed. It was a California king, and his fingers could just wrap around the cold metal on either side.
Her eyes darkened even more as her teasing smile turned hungry. “God, I love how big you are. It’s like you could swallow me up.” She crawled to him, her hips swaying with each movement across the deep purple covers. “Although I suppose I’ll be the one doing most of the swallowing tonight.”
“I’m going to tackle you if you keep talking like that.”
She reached up and snapped the first handcuff on his wrist. She tried to tug it to the bedpost. Something ornery in him wouldn’t let her. Instead he cradled her face and pulled her in for another kiss. She didn’t resist. As their tongues entwined, she tugged his wrist again. This time he let her guide it to the bedpost and lock him in place. She stroked his other arm.
“Wait.”
She pulled back from the kiss, worried.
He reached out to touch her chest, sliding his hand over one breast and then the other to tease her nipples through the lace of her bra. “Just realized I wasn’t going to be able to do this.”
She laughed a pretty sound. Her head tilted back as her back arched, pressing herself more firmly into his hand. He rattled the chain of the one cuff, wishing he’d thought of this first. But before he could ask her to take the handcuff off, she pulled out of his reach. “My turn.”
He growled at her. She shook the blindfold at him. He considered for a moment then put his hand up by the post.
Another click, and he was tethered. His breath sucked in, nervous but more excited than he expected. This encounter was entirely in her court. She got to choose what they did. It surprised him how much relief he felt, knowing every touch stemmed from her desire.
She inhaled slowly, her chest heaving with the motion as she lifted the blindfold to her face. A wink, and she tied it on.
There they were again, the words on his lips to say he loved her. But she couldn’t see him swallow them back this time.
She dropped to all fours and her hands slid across the bed toward him. He gripped the bedposts as he watched her progress. Her fingers hit his thighs. Reflexively, he tugged back. Metal caught, and he nearly toppled forward before the chain caught again, holding him in place.
Jolie stilled, her hands light on his legs. “You okay?”
He tightened his grip and righted himself by stepping back toward her. “Yeah.”
A pause before her hands pushed against him, traveling at an even pace up his legs to the waistband of his pants. Her smile grew brighter, more excited as her breath picked up.
Touching him turned her on. He’d never seen that so clearly as he did here, stuck in place with nothing to do but watch. Her eyes were covered, so he didn’t feel the need to turn away. He could study the easy way her full lips curve
d. How her jaw relaxed and how the strain that sometimes creased her forehead was smoothed to careless joy.
Her thumbs slid under his waistband, tickling his abdomen. His lungs emptied as his cock hardened. But instead of lingering, her hands slid up his stomach. She groaned as she leaned into him. He couldn’t pull away. Her mouth descended onto his solar plexus, kissing the base of his rib cage and tonguing the line between his abdominals.
He tensed, muscles quivering. He couldn’t do this. “Stop.”
The heat of her mouth backed away immediately. He missed it as soon as it left.
“Is that what you want?” she asked.
He licked his lips. No, it wasn’t. He shook his head. She couldn’t see that. “No,” he said. “Don’t stop.”
Her fingers pressed against his abs to steady herself as her mouth reached his neck. He ducked his head down, and her teeth found his ear, biting lightly on the lobe. She liked to do that, he’d noticed. Which was good, because he liked it, too.
“When you mean it, say ‘anarchy,’ and I’ll unlock you,” she said.
While she was in reach, he kissed her temple. “I’ll remember.” An alternate word for “no” would give him a chance to think about it, to make sure he was making a decision and not letting the inhibitions he wanted to defeat make the decision for him.
She pulled her head out of reach, and her hands slid up his stomach. As her nails lightly grazed his chest, he knew without a doubt that he did, indeed, want to beat his. He wanted her here, like this, not just for her happiness but for his own.
He deserved to be touched.
* * *
Mine, mine, mine, mine. Jolie touched his chest with her fingers and then her cheek, giving herself time to grow accustomed to its texture. Though he’d had his shirt off before, she’d never felt like it was okay to take her time and really get to know the feel of him. This was special, and she cherished the trust it took to let her touch him at her own pace.
His breath came hurried, a mixture of tension and lust sending his chest heaving. At the moment she thought tension had the lead, but she could fix that. She just had to keep him from saying the safe word.