“Just me, sweetie,” Eli said, holding up his hands before he started to shed his clothes.
“Shit.” She breathed deep, feeling dizzy from the sudden adrenaline rush. “I thought you were that client’s crazy ex coming back to shoot me.”
They shared a laugh then a naked Eli slipped in the tub stall with her.
His big arms wrapped around her, making her feel safe, protected. Full lips pressed into her neck then teeth grazed her skin and she shivered. He stepped back to squeeze some soap into his large palms then he massaged the fragrant, sudsy liquid into her shoulders, working his way down her back. Fiona’s eyes fluttered closed and the last of her tension melted away.
When he was done, she turned to face him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and bring him close for a hungry kiss. She needed this. The release and the intimacy. But as her tongue explored his mouth and his flit over her lips, Nash’s face kept flickering in her mind.
Angrily, she pushed his image to the bottom of her brain and focused all her desire on Eli, on their lovemaking. She pushed him into the shower wall and he yanked her closer, answering her ardent lust with his own. Hands roamed over soap slippery skin. His lips and tongue moved lower, teasing her wet nipples until they were hard peaks.
He went to his knees on the shower mat. Strong fingers sunk into her hips and pulled her closer. With one hand, he urged her legs wider apart and his face nuzzled into the cleft between them.
His tongue against her clit was hot, slippery, and it spiked her need higher. She pushed her pelvis into his mouth, buried her fingers into his long, wet hair. He lapped at the swelling bud until she bucked against his face and moaned. Then he sucked on the tiny bead of flesh, making release shiver through her quickly. The orgasm was small but satisfying, and it left her drugged on pleasure.
When he got to his feet, he pulled her close and whispered, “I’m not done with you yet,” then he stole her lips in another fierce kiss as he scooped her up in his arms.
Eli tore back the shower curtain, making its metal rings ting as he stepped out and left the water running. He carried her to the bedroom, nipping at her neck as they went. She let him have her completely. Fiona didn’t want to resist, and there was certainly no reason to. This was about more than physical release right now. This was about letting the stress of the day drain out of her every pore through intense bliss.
Nash’s face tried to edge its way into her mind once more when Eli threw her on the bed and climbed over top of her. When he looked down, wearing his sexy grin, his face briefly became that of her ex. But she chastised herself again internally and focused on her current lover. A protective man, a dominant, but a kind one she knew she could trust. It was about him and her tonight. Not about lovers from the past.
He placed her feet on his shoulders and stared down into her eyes as he sank deep inside of her. There were no worries about protection, for both had received a clean bill of sexual health when they’d been tested by Surrender Inc. in order to work at the club. And Fiona was on the pill to avoid unwanted pregnancy. Her pussy tightened around his shaft and pulled him father in. The sensation was sublime, and she lost herself in the rhythm of his thrusts.
She let herself float, forget … until the apartment door burst open.
***
Nash couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t get Fiona out of his mind. Seeing her today had been devastating, even more so when she introduced that big Polynesian gronk as her boyfriend. It stirred up all the shit he’d worked so hard to bury over the last six months.
He steered his Harley around a corner and came to a stop at the light. While he waited for it to turn green, he glanced over at Claim Me. What had brought him in the direction of the club on this late night ride? Habit, maybe. He didn’t want to overthink it right now.
As the traffic signal turned, he frowned. Light poured from the upper windows of Claim Me. He knew Thomas had left, because he’d left with him. So who the hell was inside?
Maybe Thomas just forgot the lights on, he reasoned, but after today’s adventures with a disgruntled ex-wife of a former Claim Me client, he wasn’t taking any chances. He steered the bike into the club’s parking lot and decided to take a look around, just to be safe.
As he climbed the wrought iron staircase to the second floor, Nash thought he heard water running, so he strained to listen. Was it coming from the same room the altercation had occurred in earlier? It was. He ran up the remaining steps and bolted to the door.
Locked. Damn it. But he knew where Thomas kept the keys. Only a minute later he was back and he let himself in.
Only to find his ex-wife and her new boyfriend fucking in the bedroom of this private play apartment.
“Jesus Christ!” The big guy growled as he and Fiona froze in mid-thrust. “Don’t you knock, asshole?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Nash raged and he stalked toward the bed, fist already curling for a strike.
Fiona dashed off the mattress moments after Eli and got between the big men. “No more beating the crap out of each other.” She placed a hand on each of their heaving chests. “Calm your testosterone.” Then she turned to Nash. “Your brother’s letting me stay here. Give him a call. Ask him.” She lifted her chin defiantly.
“You bet I will.” Nash scowled at her and the big dom at her side. His hands flexed, released, flexed again. No way would he throw a punch when Fiona stood in harm’s way, but his fist itched to meet the guy’s face.
“Get out now,” Eli said. “Before I return the favor.” He pointed to his swollen nose.
“This isn’t over.” Nash pointed at him as he stomped out of the room.
At the base of the stairs, he punched Thomas’ number into his cell phone. His brother answered on the third ring with a sleepy “You better be dying, Nash.” The soft voice of a female filtered through in the background.
“Why the hell is Fiona staying above your club?”
Thomas sighed. “Her apartment is getting fumigated or something. She needed a place to crash for a couple days.”
“Bullshit,” Nash spat as he swung a leg over his Harley. “There’s shit you aren’t telling me, brother. Spill it now.”
“Like I said earlier, that’s Fiona’s story. Not mine.” And, with that, Thomas hung up on him.
Nash muttered a curse and jammed his cell back into the pocket of his leather jacket. He would get answers. Tomorrow night, when the club closed, he’d hang around and wait. If Fiona had a story to tell, she would give him the truth, and he wouldn’t leave until he got it.
***
Nash had to wait it out. The next night, Fiona left the club with her new boyfriend Eli. Nash had learned a bit of this dom’s history from Thomas, but his brother wouldn’t give up anything confidential.
So Nash sneaked into Thomas’ office and scanned the schedule. He memorized Fiona and Eli’s client roster for the next couple days, searching for a time when they would be separated and he could get her alone. Okay, so he was acting like a jealous creeper, but he wanted answers, and dammit he wanted her back in his life. Maybe this was the wrong way to go about it, but his rage always did cloud his practicality.
When Eli went into a playroom above with a client, Nash asked another bouncer to cover him and he went looking for Fiona. He spotted her going into her apartment alone and he wasted no time getting up the stairs. He found her door unlocked and slipped inside.
She turned from the closet and dropped the robe she held, gasping when he entered the bedroom. “Don’t you ever knock?” A hand flew to her chest.
He shrugged. “The element of surprise works to my advantage.” Nash grabbed a chair, swung it around, and straddled it. He folded his big arms atop it, rested his chin on them, and watched her slip into the silky blue garment. “Why are you really here, sweetheart?”
“Your right to know such things ended with our divorce.”
Nash held up his hands. “Come on. If we’re going to work together, we might as well get along.�
�
Fiona raised an eyebrow as she sat on the bed. “I thought our truce ended?”
“Let’s renegotiate.” He smirked, but when she didn’t return his amusement, he added, “You all right? If something is wrong … I’d like to help.”
“I’m fine, Nash.” But she wouldn’t look him in the eyes when she spoke. “Really.”
“Why’re you working here then? I thought you were promoting Peter Murphy these days, plus a bunch of other fighters. That should be more than enough to keep you busy.”
She gazed at him, smiled a quick smile, fiddled with the quilt. “I’m not repping Murphy anymore. I just needed a break. Besides, this is something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Spanking people?”
She laughed and shook her head at him. “Domination and submission. I’m into both, but I never felt comfortable telling you that. Especially after how you reacted to me wanting a threesome. I figured you wouldn’t be into it. That and you cheated on me so many times I kind of lost the ability to trust you.”
“I made mistakes in our marriage.” His shoulders sagged. “I was a hypocrite.”
“We both made mistakes.”
He nodded. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
He stared deep into her emerald eyes. “There’s been no one else since you. Oh, I’ve slept with other women, sure. But all their faces become your face.”
That got to her. He could tell by the way her eyes glimmered. The way her jaw worked as if she was lost for words.
“Prove it to me,” she said, her voice edged with lust. Then Fiona leaned over and opened a drawer in her nightstand. She removed something that winked silver under the overhead light.
Handcuffs.
“Tie me up and make love to me. Rough. Hard.”
Her gaze held a deep resolve. He knew if he refused, he’d never get another chance, and he’d be a fool to say no. This was her test and he would pass it.
He approached the bed and sat, taking up the metal bracelets. “Take off your robe,” he said, and she readily obeyed, sliding out of it before she lay back on the mattress and placed her wrists against the railings.
His pants grew tight as she splayed out and he placed himself between her creamy thighs. The scenario felt strange. He’d never really consciously dominated her, or anyone, before. He just went with the lust and let nature take its course. But this also felt right. And he wanted to please her. Needed to.
He shed his clothes after he secured her wrists to the headboard, and did so slowly, watching her the whole time in silence.
What the hell was she doing? That little voice in Fiona’s head screamed at her. She was playing a dangerous game—leading her ex on when she was with another man, who also had a jealous streak. This wasn’t smart. She couldn’t promise Nash that after tonight everything would be fixed between them, that she’d fall into his arms and forget about Eli. But desire took over and made her impulsive. Regrets were for later.
He kissed her hungrily, nipping her bottom lip before his tongue explored her mouth. She returned his fervor.
“Pinch my nipples,” she said breathlessly when the kiss broke.
His big hands curled around her breasts, massaging the pale globes, working toward the pinkish brown peaks. Finally his fingers closed around the tips, grasping them and tugging. She gasped as the sharp sensation zipped straight to her groin, making her pussy tingle and grow wet.
“Bite them,” She begged. “Suck them.”
Once more he did as she asked, yanking on the now hardened points with his teeth. The fiery sting made her buck beneath him, made her sex wetter. She throbbed inside and out.
His mouth closed around her aching nipples and he suckled, soothing away the hurt. One hand trailed lower down her body and parted her legs, but he didn’t touch that pulsing bead of flesh at first. Instead he teased her, swirling circles over the trimmed triangle of hair, tickling her thighs.
“Please.” She let out a breathy moan. “Pinch my clit. Use your teeth on it. Please.”
Nash didn’t hesitate. His lips skimmed down the valley between her ribs, over her flat belly. Once again he teased her, kissing, biting, and licking around her pubis mound, down her thighs. He blew on her slick labia but would not give her the release she craved. Fiona thrashed in her tethers and trembled with need.
When his tongue flicked over her clit, she sighed loudly and arched her hips up, bringing her cunt closer to his mouth. He licked between her wet lips and poked his tongue inside her hole, making her whimper from want. Then his mouth closed over that swelling bead of flesh and he sucked it hard. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids and she grit her teeth as intense pleasure assaulted her.
Fingers slid inside her soaking sex and pumped in and out, in and out, in time with his laps at her clit. She climbed higher, closer to ecstasy. He pulled back the hood of her clitoris and laved the throbbing bud with affection while he stroked her g-spot with curled fingers. Fiona went over the edge then, crying out and shuddering as she came hard.
“I want you inside of me,” she whispered as he brought his head up from between her thighs.
Nash needed no further encouragement. He placed her legs atop his broad shoulders, positioned himself between them, and sank his cock into her tight, wet pussy. He was heaven, and she lost herself in the bliss of his slow, sensuous thrusts.
“Harder,” she moaned. “Faster.”
His speed and power amped up and the sound of their flesh slapping together only fueled her carnal bliss.
“Ow! Fuck,” Nash grunted and his cock remained inside of her when he stopped suddenly.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Are you okay?”
His face was taut with pain, and he looked away from her compassion in embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s my damn back … Gives out at the worst times.”
Her heart flooded with empathy. She knew the accident had messed him up badly. Thomas told her Nash had to have disks in his lower back fused and the doctors had predicted partial paralysis. But stubborn as he was, he’d proved them all wrong and worked hard at his physical therapy to regain most of his mobility.
“Go slow,” she told him, wishing she could reach up and stroke the tension from his strained face.
“You wanted it rough.” His voice was raw with shame.
“I want you. That’s all that matters.”
He smiled a small smile then, and gazed into her eyes as his cock moved inside her once more. Slowly but still pleasurably. He reached between them to rub her clit and bring her to orgasm once more. Moments later they both climaxed together.
When he collapsed beside her on the bed, he kissed her cheek and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m not what I used to be. Shit, it takes me an hour to get out of bed most mornings.”
Her heart fluttered again. Fiona swallowed. Suddenly the chains were too restricting. Nash was too close, and this whole situation, with its familiar tenderness, was too dangerous.
She glanced at the clock. Only fifteen minutes until her next client. A perfect way out. “Unfasten the cuffs, please. I have to shower and get back to work.”
The coldness in her voice hurt him. His frown showed the pain. “Sure.” He used the key on the nightstand and snicked each one open. “Could we talk later? After you’re finished here.”
She shook her head and avoided his eyes as she slipped off the bed. “Eli wants me to come home with him tonight.”
His big hand curling around her wrist stopped her before she could disappear inside the bathroom. “I still didn’t get my answers.”
Her eyes locked with his and she frowned. “About what?”
“About why you’re really here.”
“And like I told you before,” she snapped through clenched teeth. “Things like that stopped being your concern when we signed the divorce papers.”
She pulled away from him and strode into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her.
Nash s
talked out of the apartment and mimicked her actions. He cast a glare over his shoulder as he walked away from the apartment. It had been a long time since he’d paid a visit to Strength Inc.’s gym, but tomorrow he would go there. Pride and a heavy heart over being denied participation in a sport he loved had kept him away, but truth seeking would take him back.
***
Peter Murphy had been Nash’s biggest rival during his career in the mixed martial arts industry. The Irish brawler once fought bare knuckle matches in Belfast, then went to Brazil in the 90s where he participated in vale tudo matches until he joined the Ultimate Mixed Martial Arts Association in North America. Nash had won the heavyweight championship from the massive, bulldog faced man a year before the accident. Nash took home the belt due to a controversial decision. The fight was so close, Murphy demanded a re-match, which Nash was willing to give him. However they couldn’t schedule a new bout until a year after Nash took home the championship, and a week before the fight Nash had the accident that ended his career. He’d retired and the belt went back up for grabs. Murphy was now the current title holder.
Peter “ the Piledriver” Murphy was jumping rope at the other end of the gym. Nash walked fast in that direction, his focus riveted to the man with a dark crew cut and built like a brick shithouse.
“We need to talk,” he told Murphy, then sat on a bench positioned next to the workout mats.
Murphy barely sneered in his direction and made no reply.
Nash stared at him and stayed on the bench. He’d wait all day if he had to. He could be just as stubborn as Murphy.
Finally the Irish brawler put the rope down and took his time grabbing his towel from where it was slung over a weight bench. He sauntered toward Nash as if he had all the time in the world.
“Thought you retired, old man,” Murphy growled the barb, but Nash barely flinched. “If you’re looking for a rematch, you’ll have to get in line. I got hungry young contenders lining up to have a go at me.”
“I don’t care about your full dance card,” Nash snarled back. “I’m here about Fiona. Wasn’t she repping you?”
BDSM Mega Boxed Set Page 95