House Rules (Dossier series)

by Cathryn Fox

  I wouldn’t dream of it.

  I swallow, my nipples so damn hard they ache. He slides the tie around my body and binds my hands so my chest sticks out even more. Lifting slightly, he draws one hard bud into his mouth and bites down. I feel the pleasure and pain all the way to my sex.

  He grips the back of my head, his fingers tight on my neck as he guides me down over his cock. He tugs and impales me so deeply it chases the air from my lungs. A gasp catches in my throat as his rough hands move to my shoulders to press me down harder, forcing me to take him even deeper. Heat bursts through me, obliterating every thought.

  I ride him, and his hands go to my ribcage to lift me up and down. His fingers sink into my skin, and I tremble all over. I grind against him, and his hips power upward, filling me, destroying me so beautifully.

  Beneath me, Sean inhales a ragged breath, and while I want to touch him, there is something so erotic in the way my hands are tied behind my back. My breasts bounce with the motion, and as he zeroes in on them, pleasure centers between my legs.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” he says.

  Seeing him so aroused spikes my desire, and another orgasm pulls at me. “Sean,” I cry out as I feel a rush of wetness between my legs.

  “That’s it,” he growls. “Come all over me, Kennedy.”

  I continue to scream his name, so lost in bliss, so delirious with ecstasy, I can barely make out his words. I hover over him, shaking, gasping, the room fading in and out of existence as fireworks blast off inside my brain. He grabs my hips and holds me down, and I throw my head back and nearly sob as he shoots his seed high inside me. I clench around him, holding every precious drop inside.

  “You are fucking incredible,” he says, and drags my mouth to his. His kisses are less rough, more tender, but just as powerful. I kiss him back and struggle to get the things I feel for this man under control. He holds me for a long time, until his cock grows flaccid, then he lifts me from his hips, settles me beside him, and snuggles me in close.

  I yawn, and he chuckles. “Boring you, am I?”

  I chuckle with him, sleep clawing at me. “You’re anything but.”

  He pulls me in tighter, his warm body, and the steady beat of his heart against my cheek lulling me to sleep. “Tomorrow,” he whispers. “Tomorrow we’ll play Truth or Dare. Right now, you need sleep.”

  “Okay,” I say, for lack of anything else.

  “Night, Kitten.”

  “Night.” I’m about to drift off when something niggles in the back of my brain and wakes me. Did he call me Kennedy? I angle my head and take in his face, his closed eyes, his soft breathing sounds. If he slipped out of the fantasy and called me by my name, is it possible that he might want more than just a weekend of sex? Did I dare hope?

  When he begins to snore lightly, I slide from the bed and tiptoe into the bathroom. I step over Sean’s clothes and turn on the water, but when I see a key card sticking out of his shirt pocket, I turn the tap off and bend to pick it up. The little white envelope has a room number and the name Deanna scribbled across it. Was Deanna the girl from the cocktail bar? Is it possible that while I was schmoozing his boss, he was making a date with another woman?

  The Sean I knew always was a player…

  My heart freezes, and I drop the envelope like it just lit on fire. Stepping back, I hold my hands to my chest and try to get my emotions under control. Sean has a key card to another woman’s room. I feel stupid tears threaten and swipe them away. Why the hell did I let myself believe there could be more between us? I came to him playing a game, and he was playing one with me in return. I have no right to be upset that he has some woman’s room key. I never even came right out and told him who I was, for God’s sake.

  I stand there for a few more minutes, breathing past the tightness in my throat as I think about my adventure and strategize my next move. I came here for epic sex, nothing more. Now that I’ve had it, it’s time to grab my things and get back to reality.

  I slip into the room and go still when Sean stirs on the bed. How the hell am I going to get out of here without waking him? Last time I snuck out before morning, he was angry. But that was before our weekend was over. Now, would he even care?

  Chapter Eight

  Sean

  Morning sun slants in through the curtain, and I reach across the bed for sweet Kennedy, who totally gave herself to me last night. I’m shocked how the first thing to cross my mind in the morning is her, how reaching for her has become somewhat of a habit. But when my hand comes up empty and I find the sheets cold, I jackknife up and glance around the room.

  “Kennedy,” I call out and kick my sheets off. No sense in calling her Kitten anymore. The cat’s out of the bag, so to speak, since I called her by her real name in bed last night. I pad to the bathroom and stick my head inside. Unease curls through me, and I spin around. Where the hell did she go?

  I grab my clothes off the floor, tug on my pants and shirt, and notice the little white envelope on the floor. I pick it up and examine it. Deanna? Shit, who the hell is Deanna? My tired brain races, but I don’t give two shits who Deanna is, or how her key card ended up on my bathroom floor. The only girl I care about is Kennedy, and she’s nowhere to be found. Even her clothes are gone. I reach for my cell, only to realize we hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers. Dumbass.

  Finger-combing my hair, I step out of my suite and dart to the elevator. I ride to her floor and knock on her door. I pace restlessly as I wait for her to open it, but my gut is already telling me she’s not inside. I try the front reception and feel physically ill when they tell me she checked out.

  Feeling like I’ve been sucker punched, I sink into one of the chairs, plant my elbows on my knees, and drop my head into my palms. Kennedy’s gone. Why the fuck would she just up and leave in the middle of the night like that? Not even a good-bye or a fuck-off. Nice, real nice. It’s something I would have done in the past.

  In the past? When the hell was that, last week? Jesus, I can’t believe how much I’ve changed since falling into bed with my sister’s best friend.

  I sort through everything, from the second she chased me down the rain-soaked street to waking up in bed alone. Obviously, she was playing a game with me and didn’t want me to know who she was. Had I totally fucked it up by calling her Kennedy? Did she never want me to know who she was? Never want anything other than sex from me? Guess not, considering she took off.

  I push from the seat and step outside, needing the cold morning air to help clear my head and get my thoughts straight. I walk the busy sidewalk, pass a few stores on the way, and play with my phone in my pocket. Whatever this was all about with Kennedy, my sister was clearly involved. I pull my phone and shoot her a text.

  “Tell me what’s going on with Kennedy?” A second later my phone rings, and I slide my finger across the screen to answer. “What’s going on, Olivia?”

  She’s hesitant at first, then says, “We had a pact.”

  “A pact?”

  “Yeah,” she says, and then explains the whole New Year’s Eve name-drawing game they were all involved in.

  “So you thought you’d send her to me? For epic sex?”

  “She’s always had a thing for you, Sean, and you’ve been into her for just as long. I thought you both needed a push in the right direction.”

  Fuck. I rake my hands through my hair, lean against the window of a confectionary store, and say, “You knew.”

  “Of course I knew.”

  “I figured Kennedy was the last girl you’d want me to be around.”

  “She is the last girl I want you to be around. Meaning she’s the one for you. I’ve always known that. I just don’t think the timing has ever been right.”

  “She is the one for me,” I say, my heart racing. “But she took off.”

  Olivia laughs. “Jesus, she really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

  “Olivia—”

  “Look, I’ve known you for twenty-five years. Yo
u’re a ruthless businessman, a tough negotiator. Since when did you ever let anyone or anything stand in the way of getting what you wanted?”

  “Never.”

  “Right.”

  I push off the building and glance inside the store. “I’ll talk to you later, Olivia,” I say, and power down my phone. With renewed purpose, I grab the door handle and walk into the market. My pulse leaps when I find what I’m looking for. Oh, yeah. Kennedy is going to be mine, even if I have to tie her to my bed until she understands that.

  Chapter Nine

  Kennedy

  After photocopying a bunch of documents, I drop into my chair and ignore my buzzing cell phone. It’s been ringing all week, but I’ve disregarded all calls from my friends, especially Olivia, and spent the last week busying myself with work. Anything to keep my mind off Sean and the pain those memories bring. A sound catches in my throat, and I blink to dispel the image of him and…Deanna.

  I turn sideways to my door and boot up my computer, needing to input some data. But my hands freeze over my keyboard when I hear, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I spin and glance up. When I see Sean in the doorway, looking so relaxed and handsome, dressed in a dark suit and impeccable as always, my heart pounds in my chest.

  “Sean––” I say. “What––how?”

  He pushes off the doorframe, and his presence overwhelms me in the small space of my office as he nears. “Kitten,” he responds. “Or, should I say Kennedy?”

  Oh God, what kind of game is he playing now?

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask as he stalks toward me.

  He stops on the other side of my desk and dips his head. “I’ve already asked you that question, and I’m waiting for an answer.”

  “When did you figure it out?” I ask.

  “Two seconds after I got off the elevator the first day you arrived in London.”

  I take in the smirk on his face. “You knew all along…” I say, and look down, hardly able to believe it.

  He knew all along and still wanted to play with me.

  My heart picks up tempo as I chew on that. He never thought he was sleeping with Kitten, and knew all along it was the annoying girl from his youth he had between the sheets. A little thrill moves through me. I guess I kind of like that he knew from the get-go that it was me, and that he’d been anxious to have me beneath him.

  Oh, how anxious he was.

  As my mind races back to all the naughty ways he took me, and the deliciously dirty things he said to me, he says, “I guess you don’t remember me calling you Kennedy when you were coming for me.”

  My mouth drops open, and I glance past him to make sure no one in the hall heard.

  “Sean.” I lower my voice, but past experiences tell me he’s not about to hush for anyone.

  “The tickets to Random Nation weren’t random, Kennedy,” he says, a new softness to his voice. My heart squeezes painfully, more touched than ever by the tickets. “I knew it was you all along, and the game of Truth or Dare, well, that was so I could get the truth from you. But you took off before we could play it. Why did you do that?”

  “It was a one-night deal that turned into a one-weekend deal,” I say, my pulse beating so hard against my throat I think I might pass out. I can’t tell him that I’m in love with him and that spending any more time with him would surely kill me. “Besides, you had Deanna.”

  His brow furrows. “Who the fuck is Deanna?”

  “I know your reputation, Sean. I saw her put the card in your shirt pocket that night at the cocktail bar.”

  “Fuck. Right, I remember now. It actually flew in and out of my mind that night because I was so caught up in you.”

  “So you didn’t––you haven’t…?”

  “Jesus Christ, Kennedy. I could never sleep with another woman after you.”

  “Are you serious?” He only wants to sleep with me?

  “Fuck yeah, I’m serious.” He dips his head, and his eyes lock on mine, holding me captive within a whirlpool of need. I love him so much. “This is how serious I am.” He lifts one hand, and I notice the big brown bag he’s holding. Oh my God. I hope he doesn’t have a bag of sex toys with him. I know our relationship has been all about bedroom games, but I’ll lose my freaking job if he dumps a bunch of vibrators on my desk.

  He opens the bag, and I hold my hand up. “Sean, don’t,” I say quickly, my throat so tight it’s hard to speak.

  He turns the bag upside down, and a thousand candy hearts fall onto my desk. Some roll onto the floor, and I gasp when I see that each candy has Be Mine written on it. My hand goes to my chest, and I falter backward. Good God, he must have gone to a million stores, opened a million packages to collect all the ones that said Be Mine.

  “Sean,” I say, confused. My mind races back to the day I gave him that exact candy and he laughed in my face.

  “I’ve always wanted you, Kennedy. I pretended you were a nuisance because back then a three-year age gap was too much. Today, it’s not.”

  I can’t breathe as I stare at him, and my ears are buzzing so hard with the rush of blood that I’m not sure I’m hearing what he’s saying. He picks up a candy and hands it to me.

  “I want you. You want me.” He comes around to my side of the desk, and when he tugs on his tie, my body fires. “Now, say yes to this before I toss you over my shoulder, drag you to my place, and tie you to my bed until I coax the answer I want from that pretty mouth of yours.”

  “Sean…I can’t believe this.” I shake my head. “I’m surprised you knew right away it was me. I’ve changed so much.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, you changed. Grown up. I have, too, but I’d know you anywhere. You’re still that sweet, fun-loving, sexy-as-hell girl I fell for ten years ago.”

  He pushes a candy into my mouth and lets his thumb linger there for a moment. His eyes darken as his gaze drops to my lips. “What do you say?”

  I’m about to say yes when reality hits. “You live in New York. I’m in Chicago. There’s no way…”

  “I really hate that word. In fact, I don’t want you to ever use it with me again,” he says, his voice hardening.

  My entire body quivers at the command in his tone. “What word?”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  He presses his lips to mine to seal my protest, then says, “My head office is around the corner. I’ve already made the change. The only thing left is for you to pick out whatever house you want to live in.”

  He wants to live with me? Is this just about sex, or more? Oh God, do I dare hope it’s more? My heart couldn’t take the alternative. “This is all coming at me rather fast.”

  “Now, there’s a word I want you to use all the time.”

  “What word.”

  His grin turns wicked. “Coming.”

  My legs wobble, and he pulls me against him. “Do you think you could take the afternoon off? I’d like to take my fiancée out to celebrate our engagement properly.”

  “Your fake fiancée, you mean,” I remind him.

  “No.” He pulls a box from his pocket and drops to one knee. “I love you, Kennedy. Will you be mine?”

  I stand there, shell-shocked, looking at the man I love—the man who loves me—down on one knee, proposing for real. I sink to the floor next to him. “I’ve always been yours, Sean. Always,” I say, and press my lips to his.

  He kisses me deeply then pulls back and says, “And I’ve always been yours, Kitten. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here so I can tie you up and make you purr.”

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  Acknowledgments

  A shout out to Pamela Callow, Kelly Boyce and Julianne MacLean, wonderful friends who are always there to support me, and give excellent advice. You ladies are the best!

  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cathryn Fox is a wife, mom, sister, daughter, and friend. She l
oves dogs, sunny weather, anything chocolate (she never says no to a brownie), pizza, and red wine. Cathryn has two teenagers who keep her busy and a husband who is convinced he can turn her into a mixed martial arts fan. When not writing, Cathryn can be found laughing over lunch with friends, hanging out with her kids, or watching a big action flick with her husband.

  Also by Cathryn Fox

  Learning Curves

  Hands On

  Body Contact

  Full Exposure

  Slow Ride

  Wild Ride

  Sweet Ride

  Hold Me Down Hard

  Tie Me Down Tight

  Betting on the Wrong Brother

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