The Next Move

by Lauren Gallagher

  "Oh Jesus, Kat, you’re going to make me come if you do that."

  "No, you’re not allowed to come," she said, her voice strained but still in control. He had never, ever imagined it was possible to be so frustrated, least of all while he was deep inside a woman, but there he was.

  "If you make yourself come with me inside you—" He groaned as her pussy again tightened around him. "You’re going to make me come."

  "Do you want me to stop?" Her hand moved faster, her pussy gripping his cock as her spine arched off of his chest. Another minute of that, and he’d be gone.

  "No," he said. "But if you come…"

  She stopped abruptly. Stopped, and stood. He growled with frustration as the handcuffs kept him from reaching for her and pulling her back to him. Facing him, she licked her lips. Her skin was still flushed with arousal, her breathing rapid and shallow as it always was when she was close to an orgasm, but she was still infuriatingly in control. Of herself. Of him. Of everything.

  "I wouldn’t want to make you come yet, would I?" she said. She leaned over him, resting her hands on his thighs and keeping her lips just out of his reach.

  He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and whimpering softly as his body screamed for release.

  "Look at me."

  "I can’t."

  "Why not?"

  Sucking in a breath through chattering teeth, he said, "Because I’m too fucking turned on to look at you without touching you." He thought her breath caught, but couldn’t be sure.

  "I’ll put the blindfold back on," she said. "I’m the one that decides when you see and when you don’t."

  Something in her voice resonated through his mind. Something that belied her maddening exterior of calm and controlled.

  "Look at me, Chris." There it was, that edge, that hint of unsteadiness.

  He opened his eyes, searching hers for the desperation he heard in her voice, but finding none. Come on, Kat, give me a sign. Show me you’re losing it as much as I am. I know you are.

  That sign came when she took a long, unsteady breath, but it was the only concession she made. "I’m not done with you yet."

  He held her gaze but said nothing.

  "I’m going to undo the cuffs," she said, adopting the icy, commanding voice that made him want to lose control. "But the rules still apply. All of them." Her eyebrows lifted. "Am I understood?"

  He nodded.

  She eyed him for a moment, as if searching for resistance. Then, apparently satisfied that he would be compliant, she put her hand on his knee and knelt beside him.

  The cuff on his ankle moved, loosened, then fell away. He let out a breath, closing his eyes. After a series of clicks, his other ankle was free.

  As freedom clicked closer and closer, he realized he’d long since forgotten about his vulnerability. The one thing that drove him out of his mind now was not a primal need to be uncaged, but a need to be inside her.

  She reached for one of his wrists, but paused. "We’re

  not done yet, Chris," she said. "The rules still apply."

  He chewed his lip. "Kat, I have to fuck you. I can’t wait."

  She bent and circled the tip of her tongue on the inside of his elbow, making him growl with frustration. "Tell me you’ll follow the rules, or I won’t let your hands go."

  He nodded.

  "Say it."

  You think I can speak like this? Then he remembered the way he’d made her talk in the hot tub while he fingered her to orgasm. He took a deep breath. "Yes, I’ll follow the rules."

  She released his hands and he rubbed his wrists gingerly. Judging by the angry red cresent moons on each hand, he was going to have some familiar welts the next day.

  "Get up."

  His eyes never leaving hers, he rose.

  "Bedroom." She gestured down the hall. Nodding, he obeyed.

  Once they were in the bedroom, he stopped, looking at her and awaiting her next instruction. She gestured towards the bed and his heart jumped into his throat as he followed her to it. Please let me inside you, please let me. God, I can’t wait anymore.

  But she stopped beside the bed, facing him. "There’s one last thing you have to do."

  The ache in his cock was beyond unbearable, but he nodded anyway. "Tell me."

  She ran a single finger down the center of his chest, over his abs, making his muscles tense and quiver. Then she trailed it along his erection. He was so aroused that the sensation of her fingertip registered as if the condom wasn’t even there.

  "Look at me, Chris."

  He hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he opened them. "Tell me what you want me to do."

  "Just one thing," she whispered, leaning back against the bed. "One simple thing." She lifted herself onto the bed, then gestured for him to come closer. When he did, she

  wrapped her legs around his waist.

  "Jesus, Kat, I want to fuck you," he moaned, his entire body shaking as she drew him closer. His cock was inches away from her pussy now. The restraint it took to keep from grabbing her hips and slamming into her was physically painful.

  "Look at me," she said again.

  He did, blinking to bring her into focus.

  "The last thing you have to do…" She reached for him, sliding her hands around the back of his neck. "Is fuck me."

  He was inside her before his conscious mind registered the words. Something understood, something made sense of it, or maybe he just couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t know, he didn’t care, all he knew was that he was finally fucking her.

  He ground his teeth, trying to keep from coming just yet; though he wasn’t sure if her rules still applied, he wouldn’t come until she did. "Oh fuck, Kat, you feel…" But he could only groan.

  "Harder," she moaned, her back arching. "Oh God, I’m…" Her entire body seized with a powerful climax, her pussy tightening with every deep thrust he took.

  His orgasm was a breath away, but even through the oblivion that threatened to take over at any moment, he knew he was still her submissive. The rules still applied until she said otherwise, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. He was going to come, he had to come, he needed to come…

  "Oh God, Kat, oh my God, tell me…" He faltered, struggling to speak. Then he looked her in the eye and whispered, "Tell me I can come. Please, tell me…"

  "Yes, Chris, oh God, come…" she moaned, and before the words were even out, a violent shudder surged through him and he roared as he came deep inside her.

  He collapsed against her. "Jesus Christ," he murmured.

  Her fingers ran through his hair, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him. Neither spoke, they just breathed.

  When his legs would finally hold him up, he quickly got rid of the condom. Breathless and spent, he joined her in bed. She rested her head on his chest and they caught their breath as he let himself ease back into the familiar calm of safety and security.

  He realized though, that he hadn’t felt unsafe or insecure. Though she had tripped his primal responses to being vulnerable and cornered, he’d known with complete certainty, on an intellectual level, that he was safe. Anytime he’d engaged in this kind of activity with other women, there had always been that nagging doubt in his mind, that paranoia that once he was physically at her mercy, she might take advantage of it. To do what, he was never really certain. All he knew was the unsettledness of knowing that she could. It was a feeling like he’d jumped out of a plane and didn’t know if his parachute would really open.

  That never crossed his mind with Kat.

  He had surrendered to her with total, unwavering trust.

  With other women, it was the vulnerability that kept him from relaxing enough to fully enjoy being dominated. With Kat, he’d relaxed, and he’d enjoyed it more than he’d ever thought possible, but now he was left with this unnerving feeling of accidental intimacy, as if something between them had deepened while they weren’t looking.

  He’d done his level best
to follow every rule she’d laid down tonight. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t come until she allowed it. He’d followed her every command.

  But something told him he’d broken a different rule.

  Twenty Five

  "So what moved you out of Georgia?"

  "Followed the money." Blake winked at her over his menu. "Found a job up here that was too good to pass up."

  Kat laid her menu on the table, folding her hands across it. "Must have been a damn good offer to pull a southern boy out of the South."

  He chuckled, closing his menu and putting it on the edge of the table. "Obviously you’ve never been to Georgia in the summertime."

  "Or any time of the year, for that matter." She smiled.

  "It’s hot enough to make the devil faint," he said. "That’s why I like it here. Cooler, not so humid." He winked. "The only thing hot around here is the women."

  She laughed. "Glad we don’t disappoint."

  "Definitely not." He paused. "So what do you do?"

  She gave a theatrical sigh. "I bend the laws of physics, turn water into wine, and generally spend most of my days in the trenches of psychological warfare."

  His eyes widened. "I assume you mean all of that metaphorically."

  "No." She shook her head. "One hundred percent literal. I’m a customer service manager."

  He laughed. If there was anything sexier than his accent, it was that quiet but heartfelt laugh, not loud enough to make a spectacle of himself, but still the sound of someone who could find humor in anything. I’ll bet he laughs like that when he’s teasing a woman and making her beg.

  She shivered.

  He sipped his drink. "Sounds like hell," he drawled. "I

  don’t know how you put up with it."

  "They give me a few bucks every couple of weeks for my trouble."

  He raised his glass in a mock toast. "Well, that makes it all worthwhile, doesn’t it?"

  She laughed. "I don’t know if it makes it all worthwhile. You never told me earlier, what do you do?"

  "I design equipment for operating rooms." He paused. "Well, that’s not entirely true. I’m part of the team that designs it. I mostly work on the logistics of integrating with existing equipment and all of that other nonsense."

  "So if I’m ever having surgery and something goes wrong, I can blame you?"

  "If it goes wrong, they weren’t using my equipment."

  "Touché."

  He chuckled. Then he folded his hands on the table and leaned a little closer to her. "I have to be honest, I’ve been doing the online thing for so long, I haven’t been out with someone I’ve just met in a long, long time."

  "I know the feeling," she said, smiling. "I’m used to going out with someone and at least knowing something about them first."

  "Who knew the internet would render normal, civilized dating obsolete?"

  She laughed aloud. "There’s nothing normal or civilized about dating."

  "Then you, my dear, have been dating the wrong men."

  "In that case, I suppose you’ve been dating the wrong women, if you’re still single."

  "Touché." He winked and her heart skipped. Picking up his glass, he said, "I’ve actually only been dating again for the last couple of years."

  "Divorced?"

  He nodded, sucking on an ice cube for a moment. "Twice, actually."

  Oh shit. That’s never a good sign. "Hoping the third time’s the charm?"

  "Eventually," he said. "I’d like to get married again someday, I’m just not about to rush back into it."

  "So, what happened, if you don’t mind my asking?"

  "First wife and I were young, stupid, and didn’t understand what being married really meant." He shrugged. "So we went our separate ways."

  "And the second time?"

  "Second wife and I married for the right reasons and divorced for the same ones."

  Kat cocked her head. "Which were?"

  He smiled. "We got married because we were in love and wanted to make each other happy. We divorced because we loved each other enough to know that we couldn’t make each other happy. We both wanted very different things out of life."

  Kat shook her head. "For someone who’s been married twice, you sound remarkably…" She trailed off, trying to find the word.

  "Not bitter?"

  "Yes, that."

  He laughed and shrugged. "Nothing to be bitter about. Live and learn. It wasn’t easy, but I don’t regret it."

  She smiled as she picked up her drink. "That’s quite refreshing, actually. I think every man I know who’s worn a wedding band in the past would just as soon never hear the word marriage again."

  "Maybe that’s it, then," he said with a sly smile. "I never wore my wedding rings."

  Kat choked on her drink.

  He laughed. "Sorry, sorry, I should’ve waited 'til you swallowed."

  She snorted with laughter, trying to clear her throat.

  His cheeks colored a little and he rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Okay, you know that’s not what I meant.

  Kat took another drink, then wiped her eyes. "What can I say? I have a dirty sense of humor."

  "So I see." He grinned. "Not a problem, so do I."

  "Good," she said. "Then we’ll get along great."

  "I think we will," he said with a nod. "So, same question. Ever been married?"

  She shook her head. "I was engaged once, for a few months."

  "So what happened?" he asked, picking up his drink. "I decided a three carat engagement ring wasn’t big

  enough."

  It was Blake’s turn to choke on his drink. As he coughed, he gave her a horrified look, which she met with a laugh.

  "Now we’re even," she said.

  "So we are." He coughed one last time before taking another drink. "Okay, so what really happened?"

  "Same thing as your second marriage," she said. "Just wanted different things out of life."

  The conversation meandered between topics, continuing through and beyond dinner until the restaurant was getting ready to close.

  As they walked through the mostly empty parking lot, he fished his keys out of his pocket and clicked the remote. A few cars down, the taillights on a silver Jaguar flickered.

  "A Jag?" she said, grinning at him. "Very nice."

  He smiled and shrugged. "I’d be content with something a bit more understated, but a friend talked me into it."

  "Your friend talked you into a Jag?" She laughed, admiring the sleek sports car. "I could think of worse things."

  He chuckled. "That’s what I get for going car-shopping while my friend’s in town. I swear to God, I think he flew here from Scotland just to twist my arm into this thing."

  "I need more friends like yours," she said. "I take it he drives one, then?"

  Blake nodded, brushing a phantom piece of dirt off of the car’s immaculate bumper. "His is black, though. Silver’s easier to keep clean."

  She admired the Jag for a moment, then glanced at her own car and wrinkled her nose. "Mine’s a bit anticlimactic compared to yours."

  At that, he grinned and slid an arm around her waist. "I didn’t ask you out because of your car," he said softly.

  She let herself be drawn closer to him. There was still a little space between them, much more than there had been on the dance floor the night they met, but that was a different time and place. A few inches of distance meant something completely different in a deserted parking lot than it did on a crowded dance floor.

  His other hand came up and gently tucked a stray

  tendril of hair behind her ear. "I’d really like to see you again."

  She shivered at his touch. "You have my number."

  "So you have no reservations about me using it?" He smiled, drawing her a little closer.

  "Absolutely not."

  "Then I will use it." He tilted his head and kissed her gently, his mouth still against hers for a moment. Then his lower lip moved, pushing ever so slightly against he
rs, then again, as if gently encouraging her to do the same. When she parted her lips and followed his lead, his tongue ran along her upper lip, enough for him to taste her kiss if he wanted, but he wasn’t going any further until she invited him. My God, he even kisses like a gentleman.

  Her arms went around his neck, pulling his body closer. His fingertips brushed beneath her jaw, creating a gentle shiver. The tip of her tongue slid under his, drawing it between her lips. As the kiss deepened, his fingers ran through her hair and the hand on her back pulled her closer. Gentleman or not, he made sure she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

  "Listen, I know it’s a first date," he whispered. "But if you want to go someplace else…" His lifted eyebrows finished the question.

  At that moment, Chris’s face flickered through her mind and guilt knotted in her stomach. She didn’t even understand why she felt guilty. Because she was considering sleeping with Blake without telling him she had a regular lover on the side? Or because she would be sleeping with Blake behind Chris’s back?

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  "Kat?" He touched her face.

  She dropped her gaze and loosened her embrace slightly. "I, um…"

  "If you don’t, I won’t push you," he said, the softness of his voice emphasizing the way he drawled every word. God, what I wouldn’t do to hear that accent whispering dirty things in my ear.

  She had way too many flings and one night stands under her belt, not to mention one too many casual lovers that she was feeling anything but casual about lately, to hesitate this much, but something was holding her back. Better to err on the side of no.

  She wet her lips. "I can’t."

  His body relaxed against hers with an ever so slightly disappointed breath. "I would like to see you again, though."

  She smiled. "Absolutely."

  After a good night kiss that almost—almost— convinced her to change her mind, they parted ways.

  As she turned the key in the ignition, her lips still tingled from Blake’s kiss. It occurred to her then that this was the first time she hadn’t spent the whole date wondering how soon she could call Chris for a "well, no luck tonight" booty call.