Fighting Attraction

by Sarah Castille

  His lips quiver at the corners, and he runs the edge of the scissors very gently down my neck to the collar of the shirt. With slow, deliberate movements, he snips the collar and cuts a line down to the crescents of my breasts.

  “I’m disappointed at your refusal to cooperate.” He places the scissors on the table.

  Shocked that he would cut my T-shirt, I can only stare when he grasps either side of the cut and violently tears the shirt in two.

  Oh. My. God.

  Before I can speak, he slides the scissors between my breasts and cuts my bra away.

  “Jack.” I whisper his name in horror as my shredded clothes fall to the floor. But even as fear slides up my spine, arousal coils deep in my core.

  He tosses the scissors aside and squeezes my breasts. “Why are you here?” He tightens his grip, twisting until I’m squirming and panting in my seat.

  “You bastard. I can’t believe you cut up my clothes. I’m not telling you anything. I liked that T-shirt. I thought it was a gift.”

  With a grunt of annoyance, he releases me and picks up two clothespins from the table. “Maybe these will change your mind.” He clamps a clothespin on my right nipple, and I yelp in pain.

  Jack studies me for a long moment before clamping my other nipple. I yelp again, struggle against my bonds, trying to breathe through the fire. After what seems like forever, the pain turns into a dull ache, which turns into an erotic burn that shoots down to my clit. I moan, and Jack gives a bitter laugh.

  “Now she’s talking.”

  “Piss off.” I glare, torn between anger and arousal, fear and disbelief.

  Jack shakes his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He slides the cold metal scissors over my hip and inside my knickers. With a snip on each side and a vicious tug, he tears them free.

  Bared, exquisitely vulnerable, I whimper.

  Jack stares down at me, his face taut and hard, barely recognizable. “You are totally open to me. There is nowhere you can run. Nowhere you can hide. No part of your body I can’t access. This is your last chance to tell me what you’re hiding.”

  I don’t know where I get the courage to defy him or why I want to do it. With my nipples clamped and my breasts sore and aching, my pussy engorged and throbbing, my body desperate to come, part of me wants to end this now, tell him what he wants to know so we can get on with the fucking and I can get the climax that is hovering just out of reach. “No.”

  He raises an eyebrow, and that controlled, limited response carries with it a heavier threat than any implement ever could. “You are forcing me to take drastic measures,” he says as he pulls on a pair of latex gloves. The impersonal snap of latex does strange things to my stomach, and heat surges through my veins. “I will break you, Penny Worthington. I will make you talk.”

  With his eyes on me, he crouches down and shoves two fingers deep inside me through the cut-out in the seat.

  “Oh God.” I am drenched with need, my pussy hot and pulsing around his fingers. I stare at him, silently begging. In this moment, his face is severely handsome, half hidden in the shadows, his eyes dark and glittering, his hair mussed, his mouth both sensual and cruel. I want to touch him, kiss him. I want his mouth on my burning nipples, his tongue licking between my thighs.

  “You will crack. It’s just a matter of time.” He adds a third finger, stretching me. I try to relax to accommodate the intrusion, but before I can soften my inner muscles, he curls his fingers and rubs them over and over against my G-spot, pumping his hand so hard, I jerk on the bench. I feel pressure building low in my womb, my body tightening. Without warning, liquid gushes from me, not urine but something else. It gives me only momentary respite, not the kind of release that comes from an orgasm, and then he starts again, fucking me hard with his hand, his fingers pounding against the same spot. The pain is excruciating and at the same time intensely pleasurable, and I don’t know whether to cry or moan. He pushes hard, and more liquid gushes from me and with it a scream.

  “Please,” I beg, panting when his fingers push deeper inside me. “Not again.”

  “Your cunt is swollen and wet,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Your clit is engorged, your nipples swollen. I can be cruel, but I can be kind. Tell me what I want to know, and I can give you as much pleasure as I give you pain.”

  I want to come, need to come, would do anything in this moment for relief, but I do have a secret, a real secret, and some stubborn part of me is not willing to let go, even if this is just a game. I want to go as far as he will take me. Bend but not let him break me.

  “I can take your pain,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “And I mean it. Green light. Do your worst. I dare you.”

  His eyebrows fly up. I have surprised him. And I have surprised myself.

  Without a word, he pulls a crop from his belt with his free hand and flicks it along the insides of my thighs. I have never felt pain like the sharp sting of the crop, and I immediately regret my foolish words. But for every flick of the crop on my tender skin, he pumps his fingers inside me, blending pleasure and pain. And it feels so good. So right.

  “Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please. Don’t. Stop.” Drenched in sweat, my clit alive with longing, my arousal a nagging, excruciating weight in my pelvis, my thighs stinging, my breasts sore and swollen, I wait for the release only he can give me.

  “Tell me,” he whispers. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Silence. Long seconds tick by. I try to decipher the unfathomable expression on his handsome face, but I come up blank.

  Finally, he withdraws his fingers and picks up a tiny flogger, each soft leather strand tipped with a bead. He speaks in a soft, authoritative voice. “You’re wound up so tight, the only way to give you pleasure is through pain. Will you take the pain I offer you?”

  I wonder if he heard my declaration, understood the secret I let fly from my heart. “Yes.”

  He slaps the flogger over my pussy, the little beads stinging like tiny needles on my delicate skin. My clit swells to meet each gentle blow, welcomes the pain as pleasure.

  “Come for me.” He flicks the flogger again, and the orgasm rips through me, a fierce tidal wave of pent-up desire unleashed through my body, crashing through me in a molten wave. My pussy contracts over and over, and I tumble into a vortex of sensation, anchored only by the press of his lips against mine and the whisper of words in my ear.

  Dazed, the sensations softening, I watch as he strips off his security vest and pulls off his shirt, baring his beautiful body—the massive toned chest, rippling abs, the biceps thick and strong. With quick, practiced movements, he undoes his belt and drops his jeans to the floor. He is magnificent, his body all lean muscle, his cock thick and hard jutting from its nest of curls. My mouth waters as he kneels before me and sheaths himself. I imagine pressing a kiss to the base of his neck, running my fingers through his soft, dark hair, taking his cock in my mouth and driving him wild.

  He unclips the spreader bar and undoes the cuffs. “Brace yourself. This is going to hurt.” He removes one of the clothespins, and I let out a strangled groan as blood rushes to my poor, abused nipple.

  “Beautiful.” Jack leans forward and draws my nipple between his teeth, swirling it with his tongue, soothing it with the heat of his mouth. He repeats the process with my other nipple, gently squeezing my breast, rocking me with sensation. When my breathing steadies, he helps me up and lays me gently on the bed.

  “Penny.”

  PINny. My name is a reverent whisper of soft Tennessee twang on his lips as he pushes his cock inside me, bracing his body with his strong, powerful arms.

  “Legs around my hips.” He presses me down against the mattress. His teeth close on the sensitive skin of my neck, nibbling and biting, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold on for the ride.

  “I was going to fuck the
secret out of you,” he murmurs. “I wanted to fuck you so hard you would remember me every day until I took you again. But now…” He reaches between us, slides his fingers along the sides of my swollen clit.

  I moan and arch against him, almost as desperate to come again as I was only five minutes ago. We fit together, as if we were one body, not two, as if all that I am and all I was meant to be is the other half of him.

  He slides one hand under my back, pulls me close, and drives in so deep I gasp. His gaze flies to mine, and I see only softness and desire. I see love. But I don’t hear the words.

  My heart thuds, and I rock my hips, taking him that tiny bit deeper, holding him that little bit closer. “Jack.”

  As if his name frees him, his forceful thighs spread my legs, and he pounds into me, his cock sliding over my sweet spot, stroking it to pleasure all over again. His body moves over me with sinuous grace, muscles taut and straining as he rubs my clit until I reach a wrenching peak.

  “God, Jack. Now.”

  “Fuck, yes.” He growls as his cock thickens inside me, and he climaxes in long, hot jerks, his release sending me over the edge in an orgasm that ripples through me, spreading out to my fingers and toes.

  When we have both come down, he gathers me up and presses his rough cheek to my forehead. “You humble me with your trust,” he says quietly.

  “I was scared at first,” I admit, cupping his cheek in my palm. “But when you asked about my safe word, your face softened, and I knew you cared and you wouldn’t push me farther than I could go, although you did get pretty close.” I bite my lip, considering. “I couldn’t do that every time…”

  “I wouldn’t ask it every time.” He rolls to his back, pulling me with him so I am tucked against his side, my head on his shoulder, watching the light cast shadows on the walls.

  “I can handle it as long as I feel you care. I lost it in that scene because I needed a connection—a kiss, a touch, even a word to let me know we were still together on an emotional level.”

  “So,” he says. “You and me.”

  “I broke us,” I say. “And you put us back together.”

  “Always.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, however you need it, I’ll give it to you. If you’re sad, I’ll comfort you. If you’re scared, I’ll chase your fears away. If you’re drowning, I’ll save you.”

  God. My beautiful, perfect man. But if Gerry makes good his threats, who’s going to save him?

  24

  Sadist in pain

  PENNY

  “Don’t say anything.” I walk past Ray and pour my coffee, angling my body so he doesn’t see the bruises around my wrists. Although I’m wearing long sleeves, and I’ve tried to cover them with makeup, I’m not foolish enough to think Ray’s sharp eyes will give them a miss. I’ve also worn a longer skirt than usual today. Even I was a bit shocked at the bruises and welts on my inner thighs.

  “That’s like asking me not to breathe.” He follows me into my office and slams the door.

  With a sigh, I turn to face him, fortifying myself with liquid caffeine. Next time I’ll tell Jack to keep the bruising to where people can’t see—especially Ray.

  “Motherfu—”

  “Calm down.” I hold up my free hand. “Not that it is any of your business, but it was consensual. I’m good.”

  His hands clench into fists. “Have you forgotten about Vetch Retch? You know how easy it is to fall into the cycle. It starts with one fucking blow. He apologizes. You forgive him, and he does it again. There’s something about you that attracts that kind of guy. You’ve been there. I don’t want to see you there again.”

  I sip my coffee, considering. I’ve never tied it all together, but Ray is right. First my dad, then Adam, and then Vetch. But it’s not that I attract abusive men. Instead, I tolerated the abuse because I never felt I deserved better. But I’m not the same woman anymore. I have discovered other ways of dealing with my pain. I am strong, not weak; courageous, not a coward; cared for, not alone. I have found someone who accepts me, who takes what I give and returns it ten times over. And his kinky side just makes me feel free to express my kinky side, too.

  “You won’t see me there again. I’m different now, Ray. I’m going to leave the past in the past and move into the future.”

  “The past has a way of coming back to haunt you. Trust me. I know.”

  “Don’t go there, and if you say anything to Jack or if you hurt him in any way, I will make your life a living hell, starting with the coffee and finishing with beating your sorry ass around Redemption.”

  Ray’s lips twitch at the corners, and he pulls the door open. “Might be worth picking that fight to see you try.” And then his face softens. “You know I’m here for you, Pen. No matter what. Don’t feel like you can’t tell me if something’s going wrong. I’m your safety net.”

  His words make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. “Thanks, Ray. That means a lot to me.”

  “Good morning,” Amanda calls out from reception.

  I follow Ray out of the office and feel a stab of jealousy when I see Amanda in a charcoal-gray suit and a cream blouse that have been perfectly tailored to her figure. When I got my acceptance letter to law school, the first thing I did was run out and buy a suit almost exactly the same. I never got a chance to wear it, and it’s been hanging in my closet for all these years with the tags still on.

  We exchange good mornings and Ray jerks his chin to her door. “I got that information you asked me to get. You want to talk in your office?”

  “You can talk in front of Penny,” Amanda says. “I’m not hiding anything from her.”

  Ray twists his lips to the side, considering. “So you asked me to find out if that bastard set up cameras at Club Sin. The answer is, yeah, he did.”

  My heart sinks into my stomach. Oh God. Jack.

  “He was using old technology. No streaming. He had a digital recorder on site instead. But sometimes old technology doesn’t work so well. Wires fray. Cameras disappear. Digital files get erased…”

  I steel myself not to react. We’ve been through this before. When someone beat Vetch Retch almost to death, Ray somehow knew about it before anyone else. But when I asked directly if he was involved, he just shrugged and looked away. Even Sia doesn’t know all the roads Ray travels.

  They share a look, and Amanda nods. “I hope it failed in time.”

  So do I.

  We spend the rest of the day changing out the office stationery and briefing our web designer about the new branding. We put up new signs and flip through catalogs looking for some art pieces that reflect Amanda’s style. At closing time, after the rest of the staff have gone, Jake stops by to check out the new look and asks if I would be interested in helping a few of his Redemption friends rebrand their small businesses, too.

  “You should charge for your work,” Ray says from the couch that Amanda now wants to replace.

  “The whole ‘you should charge for something you love to do for fun’ thing is getting old.”

  He grunts from behind his newspaper. “Just sayin’.”

  Our front doorbell tinkles. A cold breeze gusts through the room. The office shakes when the door slams and Jack stalks into the reception area, his handsome face a mask of furious anger.

  “What the fuck?” he shouts, filling the room with his rage.

  My skin prickles, and I take a step back. Ray puts down his paper and slowly, carefully stands, positioning his body in front of me. Jake puts out one arm, pushing Amanda behind him.

  “What’s up?” Ray’s voice is calm and even.

  “Did you see the fucking news?” Jack pulls out his phone and punches his finger over the screen, holding it up for Ray to see.

  Ray takes the phone, and his back stiffens. He shows it to Amanda and then to me.

 
My stomach sinks. Right under the headline “MMA Star Outed as Sadist” is a picture of Jack. We were too late. Gerry made good on his threat.

  “We thought it was a joke,” Jack snaps. “He called me up last week and threatened to publish a picture. Damien and I went over the entire building and couldn’t find the cameras, so when he called Damien and threatened to go to the papers if he didn’t vacate the premises in twenty-four hours, Damien told him to fuck the hell off.”

  “I took the cameras,” Ray mutters. “And erased the digital recorder. He must have taken a copy of the tape.”

  “You represent him.” Jack glares at Amanda, and then he turns his cold, hard gaze on me. “You knew about the cameras. You knew there was a risk. That’s why you wanted me to wear a hat. You fucking knew, and you didn’t tell me. I built up a new life here, a life where no one knew about me, a life out of the ashes of the one I destroyed. And now I’m going to lose this one, too.”

  “I’m sorry.” My voice comes out in a croak and I wring my hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t have a choice, Jack. It was an impossible situation. I did the best I could to keep you away.”

  “Like hell you did.”

  “Don’t take it out on her,” Amanda snaps. “She couldn’t tell you because I wouldn’t let her. We were given that information under attorney–client privilege, and that privilege extends to my staff. We did what damage control we could do, but in the end, you knew there was always a risk that someone would talk.”

  “Jesus Christ.” He takes a step toward her, but Jake blocks his way.

  “That’s as far as you go. I know you’re upset, but—”

  “Upset?” Jack turns and smashes his fist into the wall, leaving a huge dent beside the window. “It’s the end of my career. And once this gets out on social media, my family will be destroyed. I thought you were my friends. My team…” His gaze bores into me, making me flinch. “And you.” His lips curl in a snarl. “I trusted you, and you betrayed me. Just like Avery did. You took what I had to offer knowing how it would end. That’s not love, Pen. Love means trust and sacrifice. You wanted to be worthy, but the one thing that makes you worthy is the choices you make, and you made the wrong fucking choice.”