Chance's Rule

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Chance's Rule Page 2

by Reese Gabriel


  “Did I say I was hurt?” His tone, so suddenly cool and remote, hit her like a sucker punch.

  This in turn created an impulse to hurt him for real. “Fine, here’s some more truth for you. I’ve put in for a transfer. I’m going back to the States, so you’ll have to find a new playmate.”

  Actually she hadn’t made up her mind, not until that second.

  “Can we drop the topic, Kin, for fuck’s sake.” Chance spoke the words from low in his throat. Did he intend to make a power play?

  Because she really wasn’t up to becoming Miss Suzy Sex Slave right now. “Don’t tell me what to do, Chance.”

  His arm circled her waist. He was beyond arguing. She kicked in vain as he carried her to the small brass bed in the corner.

  Depositing her on her buttocks on the creaking mattress, he issued a second command. “Everything off, Kinzie.”

  “Planning on raping me?”

  “That isn’t possible and you know it. Our bodies are too much in sync, though I’ll happily rip those shorts and panties off, if I have to.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Try me, if you like. But remember your little lesson from the day we met.”

  Her buttocks heated at the memory. He had spanked her many times since, his hand hot and hard and possessive, stinging and inflaming, but never with the same frenzy of discovery and passion as that very first time. They had fucked afterward, so hard and fast she’d thought their bodies might combust from the heat. She had had to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming as she came, savage as any wild animal.

  “So you’re telling me if I don’t take my clothes off for you, you will take it out on my ass?”

  His eyes riveted her with an intensity that threatened to dissolve her on the spot. “Without hesitation, young lady.”

  Chance was only three years older than she but his words carried their familiar dominant charge, like a hot, searing knife in her belly. Much as she hated to admit it, Chance had conditioned her, making it virtually impossible to disobey him.

  “I’ll count to three.”

  He only made it as far as one before Kinzie lifted her bottom and tugged down her shorts. She was on autopilot, though she still had her mouth to defy him. “This is the last time, cowboy. I hope you fucking enjoy it.”

  His features darkened, those blue eyes clouding just for an instant. “Don’t worry. I will.”

  “I really mean it,” she persisted, hoping to break into his Fort Knox of a heart at last. “You and I are over. And just to prove it, I will lie here and not feel a thing. So go ahead, use me like you always do and then get the hell out of my life.”

  “This isn’t you talking.” Chance peeled off his shirt, revealing his smooth, bare chest, his skin well tanned by the African sun, his full pectorals, exquisitely developed biceps and six-pack abdomen representing a level of perfection most men would kill for. “It’s the stress, Kin. You need a break. I’ve told you that you work too goddamn hard, especially since they’ve reassigned Pierre.”

  Something in her snapped at the mention of her lost colleague. Chance obviously didn’t know what had happened to Pierre after he’d been transferred to Namibia, which only showed how ridiculously separated their lives really were.

  “Go on, keep acting like you care. This is all you want.” Kinzie had her shoes and socks off. Shimmying down her panties, she threw them at him.

  He caught them midair. Her heart clenched as he put the damp, fragrant material to his nose and inhaled. “Don’t tell me what I want, woman, and forget about being inert. You’ll come for me all right, so long and so hard that you’ll beg me to stop.”

  Her toes curled at the erotic threat. Scratch that, it was a promise. Whatever had made her think she could taunt Chance like that? He knew her body inside out, he would use it against her, forcing her to the very depths of submissive pleasure and anguish. She would not put it past him to try something new this time either, branding her in some way, making her so much his that she would not be able to leave him…ever.

  For a moment, she thought of getting up and running but his eyes kept her in place the whole time as he unzipped his pants and skinned them down. She inhaled sharply, seeing how his cock tented his briefs.

  She had to see the rest of him now, damn the consequences. She had to experience him too. Chance in all his naked glory.

  “Go on, baby, touch yourself,” he said, taking off his boots and socks. “Let me see what you look like when you’re all alone pleasuring yourself.”

  He had never asked for that before. “I will not. It’s way too embarrassing.”

  “Masturbation is perfectly natural.” He stepped out of his boxers, leaving his erection free. It stood proudly, thick and reddish purple, the familiar veins crisscrossing the surface. She could almost taste it. She could feel it too, thick and pumping inside her warm, wet sex.

  Her heart skipped a beat as he wrapped his fingers around his gorgeous shaft, squeezing, releasing. Slowly, very slowly, he began to slide his hand up and down.

  He was masturbating for her, another first. “This is what I do when you’re not around. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Do I look that stupid? A man like you doesn’t masturbate.”

  “Why not?”

  Because you are way too handsome and sexy not to have a plethora of gorgeous, begging females, she thought. Not that she would add to his ego by saying so. “That’s what prostitutes are for. I’m sure they are freely available in the cities. At least that’s what I’ve heard other smugglers say when they’ve passed through.”

  Chance narrowed his gaze. “Who are you talking about? If any of them have said or done anything disrespectful around you, it will be the last time they open their mouths.”

  “Stop acting protective,” she exclaimed. “It pisses me off.”

  Actually, it turned her on but she wasn’t going to let him know that either.

  His hand continued its slow, steady glide up and down the length of his thick cock, fingers pressing the veins, no doubt providing him delicious stimulation. How she wished she could be giving him that pleasure.

  “Just show me, beautiful. Touch that sweet body. You don’t have to masturbate. Just touch your nipple for me.”

  One time and that would be it, she determined as she watched his tongue, lightly licking the corner of his mouth.

  “I’m not doing this for you,” Kinzie declared as her fingertip grazed the swollen bud, featherlight.

  She gasped. It felt so good. She wanted so much more.

  “Good girl.” He rewarded her by touching his own nipple in kind.

  Kinzie bit down on her lower lip.

  “Now pinch your nipple,” he urged.

  She did so, pressing harder than she had intended.

  A telltale moan escaped her throat.

  “We know what that sound means,” he crooned. “You need to put your hand inside your wet pussy. You need to play with your gorgeous little clit too, don’t you?”

  His voice was in her head, mixing with her thoughts. “Yes,” she whispered, her fingertip just grazing the swollen button of her clitoris, sending zings of desire raging through her body.

  “Keep going,” he urged. “Nice and slow.”

  Why was he dragging this out? He had been ready to jump her bones a little bit ago.

  Before she made her big announcement, that is.

  Yeah, her timing sucked as usual. Not that he was much help. If he could have kept his hands off her for five minutes, they might have had a civilized discussion for once.

  Who was she kidding? Things had never been civilized between them. They hadn’t even started off civil. His first words to her had been something along the lines of What in bloody hell do you think you are doing? Do you want to get yourself killed?

  She had just run out into the road to save one of the village goats, which had chosen an extremely inopportune moment to cross from one side to the other.

  Chance had barely avo
ided her, swerving into a ditch and nearly flipping his vehicle in the process.

  “Never mind me,” was all she had been able to come up with to say. “You were the one speeding. Don’t you look where you’re going?”

  His nostrils had flared. He had looked totally delicious, tawny and muscular, covered in sweat, dangerous and male, all the more so for being so irritated with her. “Last I looked, there weren’t any speed limits on this road, woman.”

  “You don’t need them, man,” she shot back. “It’s called common sense.”

  “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you, missy?” He was inches from her face. Something in his eyes had stirred her. She had wanted to keep fighting, provoking him to see how he would react.

  “Yes,” she had sassed him. “And don’t call me missy.”

  “Why not, if you’re going to behave like a brat.”

  Her body had instantly tensed, something in the word making her feel vulnerable, frisky and sexy as hell. “How dare you.”

  His smile angled rakishly. Right then and there he had sensed her deepest sensual needs. “You are a brat, aren’t you?” Lifting her wrist, he had confirmed the lack of a ring. “No husband. Who keeps you in line, eh? Got a nice boyfriend in the bush who spanks your pretty ass when you need it?”

  She had used her free hand to slap him, delivering a fierce blow. Chance had laughed it off, sure now that he had guessed correctly as to her secret submissive nature.

  And so it had begun, eighteen months of molten hot encounters, her body sporadically plundered and cast aside.

  Was today any different? Yeah, it was. She had never threatened to end things before. And he had never threatened to rip off her clothes either.

  “Don’t climax,” he said now. “That’s my job.”

  Kinzie felt a surge of defiance. She would be damned if he would stop her, not when she was on the knife’s edge, desperate for some kind of relief from the tension that had been building all morning.

  “I will if I want,” she declared.

  His gaze narrowed ever-so slightly. “Think I won’t hogtie you?”

  Kinzie cringed. She had been down that road, her hands tied behind her back, secured to her ankles, laid on her side, absolutely helpless while he teased and teased and teased.

  Fuck it, why did he always have to have the last word?

  More often than not it was goodbye.

  Where exactly did he go after he left? That’s what she wanted to ask. But it was a rule, unwritten just like all the others. Chance’s rules. Chance’s game.

  “It’s my body,” she exclaimed, making a last-ditch attempt to determine her fate.

  He took a step toward her—decisive, determined, utterly in control as always. “Is it?”

  The question was rhetorical.

  Of course her body wasn’t her fucking own. All he had to do was look or touch.

  She breathed, shivering. Was she the only woman on Earth who reacted this way to him?

  If only.

  Kinzie pushed the thought away. Wishing for things was stupid and childish. She had wished for Bobby to live when he fell off the roof but he hadn’t and when she had told her father, he had said that the world was just too complex to accommodate everything or everybody.

  So she had gone on to become a doctor, determined to leave nothing to chance.

  And here she was, having left everything to this one Chance.

  The pun made her smile, as bittersweet as they came.

  Chance stood over her now, his blood pounding in his brain and in his cock. He had never wanted so much to possess a female, to inflame and comfort and complete her.

  Time and again he had succeeded…or had he?

  Here she was at his mercy, wearing the smirk of the Mona Lisa and nothing else. Talk about the mother of all riddles. Could it really be that he was no closer to understanding her now than when he had met her, a curvaceous dynamo in khakis and curls, dressing him down for speeding, as if for some other purpose?

  Her spirit and drive and sexy beauty had captivated him instantly. He had wanted her as he had no other woman and he had gotten her.

  He wasn’t a hundred percent sure that she was submissive, not until she had slapped him. That had been the confirmation. The slap had been an open invitation for a little playful payback. Within a half hour they had been in her quarters, Kinzie wriggling and squirming over his lap, her lovely bottom straining against her panties, presenting him the most tempting of targets.

  The spanking had led to the best sex of his life, his cock plunging into her from behind, primal and savage, both of them coming after a few powerful strokes into her burning hot pussy—red hot as her sweetly spanked ass.

  He had done all it took to keep them together afterward, securing her a ton of supplies and countless favors for her village friends. The results were more than worth it.

  They had set up something special and to his way of thinking, it needed to stay that way. What was this talk of her leaving? Sure, the place could be hell, he knew that better than anyone, but she was one in a million, born for hopeless challenges.

  He had no illusions that they would be together forever, not by a long shot, but it couldn’t end like this. Not here, not now.

  A good refresher was what she needed. This place was in her blood. And so was he. If he could just look a little deeper inside her, get her to confess her pain, he would heal it for her.

  “You’ll never let me see it all, will you?” he murmured, sliding his body over hers, savoring the feel of her soft flesh from neck to knee. “I could do more if you would let me.”

  “Ha!” She gave it right back. “This coming from the man who won’t even tell me his real name.”

  Chance pinned her wrists overhead. “Names don’t mean a goddamn thing in this country.”

  “Neither does sex.”

  “Wrong. People kill for it.”

  Kinzie’s body was pure bliss against his fevered skin. Still, the sting was there, burning down to his heart. What if this really were the last time? He couldn’t accept that, any more than he could afford the luxury of looking beyond tomorrow. That was the price he paid, living the kind of life he did.

  She really was an incredible woman, her skin so silky and smooth, even in a climate like this. He didn’t give a damn if her hair was short or long—sweet smelling as a meadow back home, full of wild flowers, blowing in the breeze, the color of sunshine.

  And her lips, molding to his, making him forget the misery even as he remembered all that was good and right in this whole messed-up world.

  Kinzie exhaled. He could feel her tension flooding away. Her eyes slid shut. Her back arched. How well he knew this body, all her little signals, its myriad subtle cues. Accepting the silent invitation, he lowered his head to one of those goddamn perfect nipples, pink and full between his teeth.

  Kinzie groaned, shameless, her pelvis pushing hard against him. She usually liked it hard and fast after a long draught, a quick release for both of them and then something slow and lingering.

  There was no need for either of them to say a word. Their lovemaking was that synchronized. Today, however, he had an agenda.

  “What do you want, Kin?”

  She was having trouble focusing.

  “Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he said.

  “Why do I have to tell you?” she murmured. “You’re the one in charge.”

  “I am,” he agreed. “And that’s why you’ll tell me, because it’s an order.”

  Kinzie sighed in frustration. The aloof, firebrand doctor was battling the submissive sex kitten, pinned beneath her man, willing to do or say anything to get relief.

  It was tempting to fully exploit the situation, forcing her to promise not to leave, but that was a line he couldn’t cross.

  “You want my cock?” he prompted, contenting himself with tormenting her in the moment.

  “You know I do, you bastard.”

  “That’s no way t
o talk when you want something, my sweet little slave,” he chided.

  She chafed under the label, green eyes flashing. She practically hissed her reply. “You want to know what I want? Give me a date when you’ll be back, give me a freaking e-mail so we can talk more than once in a blue moon.”

  “That wouldn’t help.” He returned his attention to her breasts, licking them very, very slowly, running his tongue over the swollen, responsive mounds.

  “It wouldn’t help you, you mean.” Kinzie squirmed ineffectively, her wrists under the control of just one of his hands.

  He used the other to play with her, his fingers tracing lines over her hips, across to the juncture of her thighs.

  She tossed her head. “I’m going to end up hating you, you know that.”

  No. That wasn’t an option.

  Rising above her, using his knee to nudge apart her thighs, he positioned himself. The tip of his cock was more than ready to breach her gorgeous, swollen sex lips. “Don’t look away from me, Kinzie.”

  Her eyes were a complex storm. She looked furious and scared and indignant all at once. What the hell was going on?

  “If I had a way,” he declared, sinking his cock inch by inch into her hot, open channel, “I would fix all that pain in there. I’d kidnap you and lock you up somewhere safe, if that’s what it took.”

  Kinzie fought the pleasure. “Well, you can’t kidnap me and you don’t want to know my pain.” She was trying to push him away, though the effect was only to bring them closer together.

  He released her wrists and braced himself, palms flat on either side of her.

  “Damn it all,” Kinzie gasped, squeezing her pussy muscles, clenching him as he withdrew his cock nearly to the tip, leaving her suddenly empty.

  Clenching her teeth, she raked her nails over his back. Her athletic, coltish legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking just above his pumping buttocks.

  “Fuck me, you motherfucker.”

  With pleasure, he thought, slamming himself back into her to the hilt, pushing her down onto the mattress in the process. It was always like this between them, intense and furious, like the first time. They had never gotten enough of each other and he doubted they ever would.

 

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