My Tye

by Kristin Daniels

  Good thing she was able to take up the slack.

  “I love the colors in this. Sex and Sapphire,” she read from the plaque below the grouping. “Fitting.”

  She sipped her wine then, too.

  “It’s definitely sexy,” he added.

  “More sensual, really. I mean, look at her face,” she said thoughtfully as her fingers hovered over the photo of the woman and the man with the flogger. “And his. These two know each other. They might even be lovers. You can see it in the way they’re touching each other.”

  “Or maybe the photographer is just that good?” he countered.

  She shrugged and sipped her wine again. “Possibly. But, I don’t know. I guess I prefer to believe that there’s a connection between the two of them.” She turned away from the grouping and moved on. “Or maybe that’s just naïve wishful thinking.”

  That stumped him. “Wishful thinking?”

  “Yeah. That something like that, like the sensuality in that picture, can be real.”

  “You don’t think it is?”

  “I’d like to think so.” She turned around to face him. “But it’s not like I have any personal experience with it.”

  He didn’t know why, but he found that hard to believe. “None?”

  She shook her head slightly. “Nothing serious. Unless you count the glimpse you gave me the other night.”

  Fuck yeah, he did.

  “But then… Well, you haven’t touched me since.”

  Oh, hell.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, setting his glass on the rung of a nearby ladder. “That’s not because I didn’t want to. You were hurting afterward. It was too soon. Too much for you. I want you to be healed—”

  “I hate that you think you have to hold back.” She set her glass next to his. “I’ll let you know when I’ve had too much, I promise. The last few days have been…safe. I’ve felt protected. And don’t get me wrong, I needed that. I needed it times ten. But if you’re not who you need to be, too…”

  “I told you before not to worry about me.”

  “But I’m starting to,” she said, fingering his tie and straightening it a little.

  He had to smile at that. “Why?”

  He waited for her to return his smile with one of her own, but she didn’t. “I don’t want anything one-sided between us. I couldn’t handle that.”

  If she were only talking about the balance between them as a Dom and a sub in a relationship, he might have to disagree with her. But he knew that wasn’t what she meant. His smile fell away as he closed in on her, and when he took her into his arms, she practically melted into him.

  “Then maybe I should tell you how much I’m dying to get you out of here. How badly I want to take you home and show you what I’ve spent most of the last four days only thinking about.”

  She slid her hands up his arms, resting them on his biceps and squeezing gently. “Maybe you should.”

  “You’ve seen enough?” he asked.

  She stared into his eyes a moment before answering him. “I’ve seen everything I need to see.”

  That was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Then let’s get out of here.”

  Tye took the lead as they turned to leave. He kept his arm around her, retracing their steps through the exhibits and heading straight for the back door. She kept pace, buzzing with the same urgency that Tye’s entire body radiated. It was only when he opened the thick steel door that the rush inside her died away, suddenly replaced with the heavy weight of pure dread.

  “Shit,” Tye muttered.

  Laine didn’t know all that many people in town, not outside the court system, local government and law enforcement offices. But the person standing next to Tye’s truck, she knew. And she wished to hell and back that she didn’t.

  Haven Sims, investigative reporter extraordinaire, or at least Haven liked to think she was. To most, she was simply known as a major pain in the ass.

  Her name sounded so nice. So unconventional, yet sickeningly sweet. Laine knew both firsthand and from others that she was anything but. She could be a vicious, headline grabbing, story twisting witch. Their town wasn’t overly big, neither was their county, for that matter. But Haven thought of herself as the next Lisa Ling, the one person who could put Lake County on the so-called map. Her aspirations to star on Dateline or any other heavy-hitting news show was laughably well-known.

  But just because she was the butt of a few jokes didn’t mean she couldn’t stir up a big ol’ pot of trouble. And that she somehow discovered they were here, that she was standing outside waiting for them—at the darkened rear of the gallery, no less—with her hackles raised, ready to pounce…

  Damn it, they didn’t need this. Not now.

  Not ever.

  Still, Laine figured she ought to be grateful it was just Haven out here, and that she wasn’t loaded for bear with an entire film crew at her disposal. Of course, as soon as Laine thought that, Haven’s flunky cameraman crept out from behind the truck and joined in rushing right up to them.

  “Sheriff Carter, mind if I ask you a few questions?” Haven asked.

  Tye stiffened beside Laine. “I’m off duty,” was his barley controlled answer as he kept her moving toward the truck.

  “Oh come on, Carter,” Haven chided. “Everyone knows you’re never off duty. It’s just a couple of simple questions.”

  Yeah, right. Haven and simple never quite went together. And Laine knew this time wasn’t going to be the lone exception to that rule.

  Tye slid his arm out from around Laine and casually pushed her behind him, trading sides with her while staying somewhat in front of her. It was worth a shot, but there was no way that would keep Haven from striking out at her as well.

  “What about you, Ms. Morgan? Since my questions really have to do with you, anyway.”

  Tye spoke up, shifting his position toward the side as Haven tried to maneuver around him. “She has no comment,” he said just as Haven tossed out, “There’s been rumors you were hurt. Attacked.”

  Even though her stomach now resided at her feet, something else inside Laine flipped. She’d suddenly never been so relieved to be surrounded by shadows and darkness in her life.

  But then…

  The cameraman hefted his video camera onto his shoulder seconds before she was engulfed in a wash of bright light. As he adjusted the camera’s lens to adjust the focus, he swooped over to the right to get into a better shooting range.

  Oh hell no.

  Laine had never once shied away from a confrontation, but this time was different. This had nothing to do with her job or her public persona. Not a single thing. This was about her, personally. And she’d be damned if she’d let this reporter or her sidekick expose any part of her personal life.

  Just as she moved to step around Tye to reinforce that “no comment” stance, he lunged toward the photographer to cover the camera’s lens with his hand. As big and forceful as Tye was, his threatening push forward didn’t seem to faze the tall and lanky guy in the least. Not until Tye got up in his face.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  The cameraman paused, looking from Tye to Haven, like he wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do.

  “Don’t look at her,” Tye said. “This is between you and me. I’m telling you to back off. Now.”

  There was a certain gruffness to Tye’s demand, one that speared into Laine and heated her up as she gripped his arm to hold him back from what could be the start of a bloody brawl.

  After a moment of hesitation, the guy must’ve figured that going toe to toe with the County Sheriff probably wasn’t the most brilliant career move. He pointed his camera toward the ground, held up his other hand and took a few steps back.

  “What are you doing?” Haven shouted, berating the flunky. “Get the film, Matt. Don’t listen to him. We have the freedom of—”

  Even though Laine had a good hold on him, it was Haven’s turn to get a face full of Tye. “Don�
�t even think about pulling the first amendment with me, Ms. Sims. I told you once that Ms. Morgan has no comment. I’d suggest you let it go at that. Don’t make me haul you in for harassment.”

  Not even Tye could intimidate the ballsy Ms. Sims, it seemed. As she wiggled her hips a step or two closer to him, Laine wanted nothing more than to slap the smirk right off her face.

  “Hmm. So testy. And so quick to throw your no comment out there, too, Sheriff. I can usually get you to answer at least a few of my questions. Makes me wonder why not now. Makes me wonder what’s up.”

  “Keep wondering,” Tye tossed out as he opened the truck’s passenger door and helped Laine climb inside.

  “Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that.”

  Laine didn’t hear Tye’s response since he closed the door almost as quickly as he’d opened it. But judging from the look on his face as he came around the front of the truck and climbed in as well, he hadn’t been overly nice.

  “That woman is a thorn in my side,” he muttered as he started the truck.

  Laine knew more than a few people around the courthouse who would wholeheartedly agree with him. “I’m actually surprised it took her this long to find me. Somebody at the hospital must’ve talked.”

  “No doubt.”

  It was clear that running into Haven Sims tonight—especially here at the gallery—wasn’t an accident. And that it wasn’t had Laine concerned for the first time since the attack that someone other than Tye might discover she’d visited Club Euphoria. The repercussions from that could be huge. “Think she’ll dig?”

  “Like a goddamned hound who’s cornered his fox.”

  The conviction in his voice struck another nerve. “Great,” she muttered.

  Tye steered away from the gallery, and away from the prying eyes of Haven and Matt. “She’s not going to find anything. You were found in town here, outside Pete’s place. No one other than Jack knows where you were beforehand. And since yours is an isolated incident, there’s no reason to divulge anything to the press or drag the name of the club into it at all.”

  “You’re right,” she said quietly, if not a little uncertainly.

  “Trust me, I am. And even if the original location of your assault was released, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing happened on the club premises. You were what? A block or two away? For all anyone would know, you’d just had dinner at that little Greek restaurant down at the other end of the street.”

  She supposed hearing him say that should make her feel better, but in truth it only made her angrier. “Wouldn’t it be nice if where I was wasn’t an issue at all?” she thought out loud. “If there was no judgment and people could do as they please.”

  He lowered his voice, too. “Unfortunately, that’s not realistic.”

  “I know. And I hate that it’s not.”

  He slid his arm across the back of the bench seat. “Come here.”

  When she scooted over next to him, he wrapped his arm around her and continued to steer one-handed. “No matter how much we may not like it, discrimination’s never going to go away. So we deal as best we can. We chose to live publicly with our careers, but that doesn’t mean we’re not entitled to a little privacy, too.” He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin before leaning in closer to whisper in her ear. “What we do when we’re alone is nobody’s business but ours.”

  No, it certainly wasn’t. And she hadn’t forgotten why they were leaving the gallery in such a rush in the first place. She glided her hand down his thigh toward his knee as they drove on, feeling bolder than she had in ages. The muscle there flexed under her hand and she squeezed gently, loving the power he held so effortlessly within his body.

  “Still, you didn’t have to do that. I was ready to step up and—”

  “Yes I did,” he cut it in. “It’s my job to make sure no one gets close to you.”

  “Tye, I can handle a reporter.”

  “I know you can. But with me, you don’t have to.”

  Through each glare and fade of the passing streetlights, he clenched his jaw tighter. She knew she should say something more to reiterate the fact she could take care of herself in situations like this, but she was too caught up in him, in the moment. Instead, she made a conscious decision to let it go and reversed direction, skimming her hand back up his leg as she soaked in the heat emanating through the wool of his dress pants. At the crease where his leg met his hip, she hesitated. God, she wanted to touch him. Through his pants, out of his pants, right now it didn’t matter.

  She didn’t know if she should. She didn’t know what the protocol was, what his protocol was. They’d never discussed any kind of rules or who could do what to whom and when. Up until this point, she hadn’t needed to think about that. He’d taken charge from the get-go. But now here she was, unsure of how far she could go. Should she ask if she could touch him? Or should she just slide her hand closer?

  She didn’t get a chance to sort it out, not when her riled subconscious made the decision for her.

  “Can I…” she started as she moved her hand over the bulge in his pants.

  “Fuck, yes.” His eyes drifted closed as he practically groaned the words. When he opened them again a breath later, the burn from his quick stare sizzled over her skin. Just as quickly, he looked away, concentrating on the road ahead of them while twisting on the steering wheel with his free hand. “Damn, woman. You’re going to make me wreck.”

  She laughed a little at that, pressing her hand more firmly over him, stroking the contour of him. The length of him. Loving how hard and thick he was.

  Her chuckle died away as a crazy thrill shot through her. She’d dreamed he’d feel like this. Just like this. “You won’t wreck,” she said on a breath. “You won’t because you want this as much as I do.”

  “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what you want to do to me. I want to hear you say it.”

  Oh God, could she? All those times she’d fantasized about being with him. About being his. All those times she touched him in her dreams. The times she tasted him. Yet none of that compared to telling him about it. To being moments away from actually living it.

  “Tell me,” he said again, more forcefully.

  “Everything,” she blurted out before she could think harder on it and talk herself out of saying anything altogether. “I want to take you into my mouth. I want to feel you inside me. I want to be on top of you, straddling you until you can’t take it anymore. Until neither one of us can.”

  They came to a red light where he barreled to a stop on a quick swerve. He didn’t so much as take a breath before he turned toward her. He covered her hand over his cock with one of his, then drew her into him tighter with the other before smashing his lips against hers. His kiss screamed with an urgency she’d never quite felt in him before. An uncharacteristic unraveling of his control almost. It spoke to how affected by this he was. To how similar their feelings really were.

  She gripped him through his pants even harder and moaned. He matched the sound with a guttural one of his own.

  She’d never before wished for a red light to last forever. But it didn’t. All too soon the stoplight turned to green. “How fast can you get us back to the ranch?” she asked, breathing hard against his lips.

  He settled himself back in front of the wheel and floored it. “Not fast enough.”

  When he took her hand and pulled it away from his cock and placed it back on his thigh, she didn’t know whether to chuckle or pout.

  She did know, however, that the next twenty-five minutes just might turn out be the longest of her life.

  Chapter Twelve

  There was something to be said for urgency—a lot, as a matter of fact. When they finally got back to the ranch, Tye didn’t pull around to the side of the house to park as he normally would. This time, he stopped dead center in front of the steps leading to the front door, killed the truck’s engine and took Laine by her hand. He rushed them up the steps and unlocked the door in record time, onl
y to spin on her once they made it inside. He swooped her into his arms and carried her through the living room, heading straight down the hallway toward his bedroom.

  There was no pretense once they got there. He shoved the covers aside and laid her on the bed, coming over her as he did to cover her body with his. The heft of him on top of her, of how perfect he felt there, only added to the delirium already spinning inside her head. He was kissing her, consuming her, running his hands up and down her sides, working them underneath her until he had her wrapped fully in his arms.

  He rolled with her then, until he lay flat on his back and she was straddling him, just as she’d confessed she wanted to do. Easing the grip he had on her, he glided his hands across her shoulders, pulling her arms from where she had them around his neck. She broke away from his lips and reared back, almost panting as he closed his hands around her wrists.

  “Hold on to the headboard,” he instructed. “Don’t let go.”

  This time, she knew what he was doing. She’d come to learn that, with him, their sexual encounters weren’t going to be so much about the bondage side of BDSM, but more about control. He didn’t need to bind her with handcuffs or ties. Right now, alone with him in his bedroom, he didn’t need anything more than the sound of his voice to restrain her. His words were enough. The demanding way he said them made her want to follow his orders.

  The dominating way he took charge had her anxious to submit.

  So when he tugged on his tie and started to pull it off, she wondered for a second if she’d gotten him wrong. But her uncertainty lasted only until he held the tie lengthwise in front of her eyes.

  “Trust me?”

  If her attacker had blindfolded her, there’d be no way she’d be ready for something like this. But he hadn’t, and Tye knew that. Still, in his own way he was making sure she was okay with it. And she was. Here, under his control, she was okay with whatever he wanted to do. She wanted to experience everything he had to offer.

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded once.