The Pleasures of Winter

by Evie Hunter

  ‘Just the way you think it feels, you sadist.’

  Jack raised one eyebrow at her. ‘You think this is sadistic? That sounds like a challenge.’

  Abbie put up her hands. ‘No, no, I’m sure you are only a semi-sadist.’

  He laughed. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not very big, you’ll get used to it.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ But she followed him out to his limo. As she lowered herself, the little toy shifted inside her and she hissed. He laughed again.

  She tried to ignore it as they travelled into LA. They chatted about her work, especially the story she was building on Tom Breslin, but the dildo jerked inside her when the limo braked or turned a sharp corner.

  Abbie loved the Ahmanson with its water fountain, huge columns and modern architecture. It was a theatre that could swamp a small play, but this was Romeo and Juliet, played with a full cast. They took their place and the lights dimmed. Jack put his hand into his pocket. The little plug in her butt vibrated.

  She jumped and squealed. It was the strangest sensation she had ever felt. ‘What the hell?’ she demanded in a whisper.

  He held up a small remote control. ‘Didn’t I tell you that it was a vibrator?’

  She gave him her filthiest look. ‘No, you neglected to mention that little fact.’

  ‘Oh well. I’ve just set it to go off at random intervals, but it’s quiet enough that no one else in the theatre will hear.’

  Her mouth opened in shock. ‘Random intervals? During the play? Oh no, you can’t do this to me.’

  He put his finger over her lips. ‘As long as you’re discreet, no one will know what you’re doing.’

  She gave his finger a sneaky lick, and laughed when he groaned.

  The orchestra warmed up, forcing her to stay silent, but she wasn’t going to forgive him for this. She was tense, waiting for it to go off again.

  The play was a revelation. It was years since she had been at traditional theatre and she had forgotten the power of a live play. Romeo was a little older than ideal for the role, but the actor was so good it didn’t matter. By the time the tragedy unfolded, she was sniffing into a tissue, despite the intermittent buzzing of the vibrator. ‘That was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like that.’ She stood up. ‘Let’s go backstage and meet the actors.’

  Jack rose more slowly. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ There was something strange in his expression, a shadow that scared her. She tried to ignore it.

  ‘I’m a reporter. Right now, I’m working on the Lifestyle section, which means I have to cover this sort of thing. This show deserves a five-star review. And I have to interview Romeo. Come on.’

  She headed for the backstage area. Jack followed silently. Her press pass got them through the stage door and as far as Romeo’s dressing room. The name ‘Kieran O’Dwyer’ was on the door.

  She knocked and a voice said ‘Yes’. She opened the door and stuck her head in. The actor was wiping off his make-up. He grimaced, then looked up, smiled and waved her in. Jack followed her.

  Kieran O’Dwyer was tall, blond and aristocratic, a picture of elegant male beauty. He managed to look stylish while leaning against a mirror with half his face covered in make-up remover.

  He stood up and bowed over her hand, kissing it with old-fashioned grace. ‘My lady, to what do I owe this honour?’ She hadn’t noticed it on the stage, but he had an accent that sounded just like Jack’s.

  The butt plug jerked, shocking her. She glared at Jack. What was he playing at? She turned back to the actor. ‘Mr O’Dwyer, I’m so pleased to meet you. I’m Abbie Marshall of the New York Independent. And this is –’

  O’Dwyer took his attention away from her cleavage and looked up. ‘Mick. I might have known.’

  Abbie looked from one to the other in confusion. Jack pressed the remote control again and she jerked and gasped. She was going to kill him.

  Jack leaned back against the door. ‘Long time, no see, Kieran.’

  The men knew each other. And didn’t much like each other: behind the fake smiles the animosity was palpable.

  O’Dwyer smiled at Jack. ‘It’s great to see Hollywood agreeing with you, Mick. You’ve become quite the urbane man of the world. George Clooney will have to watch his back.’

  That was the second time he had called Jack ‘Mick’. What was going on? ‘Mick?’ Abbie looked from one to the other. ‘Who –?’

  Jack buzzed her again. She frowned but kept command of herself and turned to Kieran. ‘Why do you call him Mick? How do you know each other?’ She was in full reporter mode, and no annoying little vibrator was going to stop her.

  O’Dwyer beamed at her. ‘Oh, Mick and I go way back. I knew him when he was plain old Michael Delaney. Long before – but, no, no point dragging up old times, eh Mick?’

  Abbie had whipped out her notebook. ‘Tell me about meeting Mick, Mr O’Dwyer.’ She emphasized the name and ignored him buzzing her again.

  Kieran made a dismissive motion with his hands. ‘Oh, no big secret. Mick and I were in college at the same time. We were all so impressed with him, the boy from Fairview who got a Trinity scholarship. Everyone thought he was destined for great things, until fate took a hand. But, sure, didn’t he end up here, so all’s well that ends well, as the bard himself would say.’

  He turned to Jack while Abbie scribbled notes. ‘I caught a bit of Steel Jacket 3 on the plane here. Fair play to you – it’s certainly the kind of stuff that gets the punters in and keeps them entertained. Bread and circuses and so forth. Good work.

  ‘But tell me, do you never miss playing decent roles? You know, where it’s not all about how you look and you can really get into character.’

  Jack spoke through gritted teeth. ‘I do get into character, all the time.’

  ‘Of course, you do. Of course. What am I saying?’ O’Dwyer sounded condescending, as if he was talking to a child. He turned to Abbie, handed her his card and told her, ‘Anything you want, anything at all, just call me. I’m entirely at your service.’

  She was examining the cursive script on the gilt-edged card when Jack reached for her arm. ‘Come on, Abbie, time to go. You can interview him tomorrow.’ He added another quick buzz to reinforce his order.

  She scowled at him, but closed her notebook and asked O’Dwyer if he would be available for an interview the next day. She was leaving when O’Dwyer spoke again. ‘By the way, Mick, I ran into Sarah recently. You’ll be glad to know she eventually recovered from the incident. Your father never got over it, though, did he?’

  Jack shoved Abbie out the door, but turned back. ‘You fucking bastard, you had to do it, didn’t you?’

  They were in front of the theatre waiting for Ben to return with the limo when Abbie finally managed to wrench her arm free from his grip. ‘Do you mind telling me what that was all about? Why was he calling you Mick? Who is this Sarah? And what was the incident he talked about?’

  He set his jaw. ‘It’s none of your business.’

  ‘It is my business, I’m your –’ She stopped abruptly and looked away. She didn’t know what she was. She didn’t know what to call it, or what she could expect from him. ‘I need to know what he was talking about. I need to know about you.’

  ‘You don’t need to know about this.’ His voice was hard. ‘Abbie, leave it.’

  ‘No.’ She wouldn’t back down. ‘As soon as we get back to your house, we will discuss this.’ For the first time, she saw a crack in his façade; she could get an insight into the real Jack.

  ‘No, we won’t. I think it’s best if you stay in a hotel tonight.’

  She stared at him, shocked. Finally she found her voice. ‘They may have given my room to someone else.’

  ‘Not the Canterbury. I’ll get Ben to take you to a decent hotel’

  ‘I don’t have anything with me.’ She was dazed. What had just happened? One minute he was keen to drive her wild and now he wanted to send her to a hotel.

  ‘Order anything you need from ro
om service. Send me the bill.’

  She stared at him, shaken. ‘Why? I thought … I thought we had something good together.’

  ‘We do. But you can’t be with me tonight. You need to go to a hotel and be safe.’

  ‘Safe? What do you mean?’

  She thought he wasn’t going to answer but when the limo arrived, he did. ‘I can’t be near you tonight. Otherwise I’ll do things to you that you can’t handle and that you won’t forgive. I’ll see you tomorrow when I have more control.’

  He bundled her into the car, lifting her legs in and fastening her seat belt for her as if she were a child. She hardly registered him telling Ben to drive her to the Four Seasons.

  28

  Jack ran until his legs trembled and his lungs burned, but he couldn’t outrun the memory of Abbie’s wounded look when he closed the limo door on her. That expression would haunt him. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but it was for her own good. He couldn’t be around her tonight.

  When he staggered back to the house, he was still full of impotent rage which needed an outlet. He considered looking for a party or event somewhere in LA where he could find a willing and experienced sub, but he knew it would be a waste of time. If she wasn’t Abbie, he would just be going through the motions. He headed to his gym and beat the hell out of a punch bag.

  The security alert took him by surprise. Someone was at the gate. He had given the staff the night off because he had expected to be with Abbie, so there was no one to answer it. It rang again.

  Abbie’s nervous face looked back at him through the security camera. ‘What are you doing here? Something wrong with the Four Seasons?’ He kept his voice non-committal, but his heart pounded. Abbie had come back to him.

  ‘I … I want to be with you.’ She sounded nervous, but wasn’t backing down.

  He took a breath. ‘Abbie. If you come in, you know what will happen? Tonight won’t be feathers and velvet. It’s going to be leather and bruises and hard fucking. If that’s not what you want, go away now. Come back tomorrow.’

  ‘Jack.’ Her voice shook. ‘I want that too.’

  He didn’t believe her, but he buzzed her in and met her at the door. She was barely in the house before he grabbed her and devoured her mouth in a deep, endless kiss. He wanted to take time to savour the sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, but he couldn’t restrain himself. Instead, he held her head while he plunged into her mouth. He pressed her up against the front door, imprinting himself on her soft curves, absorbing her taste and smell into his being.

  Abbie responded sweetly, sucking at his tongue in welcome and running her hands up his back. The tips of her nipples were distinct points against his sweat-dampened T-shirt. He looked down.

  ‘Holy fuck! What are you wearing?’

  Abbie’s trench coat had opened, revealing that underneath it she was naked. Deliciously, sweetly, mind-bogglingly naked.

  She blushed deep red but managed a smile. ‘This old thing? I’ve had it for ever.’

  Jack laughed. In the middle of a battle where he was losing out to his demons, she had managed to make him laugh. He gave her a quick, tight hug, then stepped back and told her sternly, ‘So, you are appropriately dressed for the occasion. That’s good, I might go slightly easier on you.’ He smiled, a smile he knew was full of menace. ‘Or maybe not.’

  She shivered, but stood her ground. ‘Bring it on.’

  He brought her into the playroom, anticipation tightening his muscles and making his cock swell. His hands trembled slightly with eagerness. She turned to him, shaking slightly. Her mouth, swollen and already bruised from his kiss, smiled in nervous welcome. She still wore her trench coat, which was open to reveal a swathe of baby-soft pristine skin. He wanted to mark that skin, brand her as his, to ensure that no other man ever put a hand on her.

  The strength of the impulse shocked him. He had thought he didn’t do contracts any more, never mind the sort of forever arrangement that she inspired. He took a step back. ‘Are you sure?’ He forced himself to give her one last chance. ‘Go to bed now, we’ll talk in the morning.’

  He didn’t know how he made the offer: his demon was howling at him to seize her, tie her up, fuck her until she couldn’t walk. He kept his hands at his side, fists clenched against the urge to grab her. ‘Last chance, Abbie.’

  She moved in closer, crowding him against the door, and reached up to plant a soft kiss on his mouth. ‘I don’t know what is going on with you now. I do know that I want to be with you tonight. And I know that you won’t hurt me.’

  Her unreasoning faith in him triggered a surge of rage and lust he couldn’t control. He hauled her up against him, forcing her mouth to yield to him, dominating her with his kiss. She tilted her head back to allow him better access and he took everything she offered and more. He used his tongue mercilessly, as if to show her what he intended to do to her later. She clutched him desperately.

  She already knew too much about him. He couldn’t pretend to be civilized any longer. Tonight Abbie was going to see the real Jack Winter.

  When he lifted his head, she was panting and her eyes were dazed.

  Jack pulled her into the centre of the large room. ‘Strip,’ he commanded.

  She kept her gaze pinned on him while she slowly slid the coat off her shoulders and let it drop to her feet, leaving her standing in only a pair of black heels. There was a hint of rebelliousness in her eyes, but the submissive act was a pure aphrodisiac.

  ‘Give me your hands.’ She did, holding them out palm to palm, like a child saying her prayers. Perfect. He grabbed a length of rope and looped it around her wrists, twice, three times, then finished the knot by looping it between her wrists and tying it off. He checked. Perfect tightness. No danger to her circulation, but she would never wriggle free.

  ‘What are you –?’ He didn’t give her a chance to ask any more. He pulled her hands above her head, hooked them to the winch and raised it until she was forced to stand on tiptoes, with her heels not quite able to reach the floor.

  Nervous now, her eyes followed him when he went to the rack where he kept his whips and floggers. He took down a neat flail with twelve strips of leather, and a riding crop. There was apprehension in her eyes but she didn’t protest.

  ‘Tonight is different. There are no limits. We’re going to do what I want. You chose to come here. You’ll take the consequences.’ He wasn’t acting to scare her. He knew he was going to lose her, and something was driving him to scare her away first.

  Abbie’s breathing was too fast, her pulse thundered in her neck, but she looked him in the eye. ‘I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me more than I can bear.’

  ‘Then you’re a fool.’ Without warning, Jack whisked the flail against her hip, so that the tails curved around her and caught her buttocks. It was a hard, direct strike. He wanted to make her react.

  She gasped and jerked, but smiled at him. ‘I trust you.’

  Damn her. How was she doing this to him? He stood behind her, still dressed in his sweaty gym clothes, and pressed against her naked body. ‘How does it feel to be so vulnerable?’ He ran his hand down her body slowly. ‘So open to whatever I do to you?’ He dipped his hand into the warmth between her thighs.

  She moaned, helpless to stop him, and her thighs quivered. Her moisture dampened his hand and he couldn’t resist milking it. She whimpered and moved her hips back against him.

  He stepped away, picked up the flail and flicked it across her ass. She gasped again. The backhand stroke caught her the other way and she jerked in her bonds. He did it again, giving her no quarter, intent on bringing the blood to the surface and turning her skin a rosy red. She panted, trying to catch her breath.

  He wouldn’t let her. He wanted – no, he needed – to drive her past her comfort zone and out of control. He flicked the flogger up and down her body, listening to the sounds she made when it hit different parts of her flesh.

  Abbie’s thighs were sensitive, and
a stroke there made her wheeze. He did it again, just to hear the sound a second time. Her back could take more punishment than her calves, but alternating hard strokes and soft flicks kept her off balance and drove her crazy.

  Then he moved round to the front. When the first blow landed against her stomach, she flinched and protested. ‘You can’t –’

  ‘Of course I can.’ He struck again, this time higher up, closer to her defenceless breasts. He teased her a little by flicking the flogger up and down her body before he flashed it against her breasts.

  She gasped, then struggled to catch her breath. Her nipples tightened even more, their points now a bright red lure. He couldn’t resist bending down to catch one between his teeth and biting down gently. She made a strangled sound that shot heat to his cock.

  God, he wanted to do this to her all night.

  ‘Are you all right?’ He had no idea how he managed to ask that. Or what he would do if she said no.

  Abbie took a couple of breaths before she answered. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Good. Then it’s time to make it interesting.’

  He went back to flicking the flogger up and down her body, back and front, trying to see what drove her highest, made her give the loudest response.

  Without warning, he dropped it and picked up the crop. He flicked it against her once in warning, then struck harder. She wailed and kicked, but didn’t ask him to stop. He did it again and watched two dark marks forming on her perfect ass. He needed to mark her. He struck again, lower down, and she screeched. One more time, another yell, and he couldn’t resist her any longer.

  He tossed down the crop, shoved his pants down his legs and picked her up. ‘Grab the rope,’ he told her. Without untying her, he shifted her so that she was in position, then pulled her down on to his cock.

  Abbie shrieked as loudly at that as at anything he had done to her earlier, but the cream coating her thighs was proof that she needed this as much as he did. He had no patience and no control and rammed into her hard, again and again. Gripping the rope above her desperately, Abbie rode his cock, frantic for release.