by Talia Hunter
“What do you expect from me, policeman?” Ally rolled the last word in her mouth with relish. Maybe it was because he’d taken on his role so completely that she was getting into hers. Or perhaps it was thanks to the chocolate martini. Either way, she was starting to enjoy herself. From the few lines she’d read so far, Cora seemed like she could kick some serious butt.
“We’ve been watching you for some time, learning about your operation.”
“You’ve come to arrest me?”
“To warn you.”
“Why?”
“I want you to know the truth.” Max swallowed as though he was having difficulty saying the words. “I want you to trust me, and I think maybe you already know why.” He moved hesitantly, visibly summoning his courage before reaching out and taking her hand. His touch sent a current up her arm. The powerful, confident Max was still hiding somewhere underneath, but now he was Thomas, offering Cora total control. His face was close enough that if she leaned forward she could probably brush her lips against his, and Thomas would do whatever she asked. What would his gorgeous mouth feel like? Ally would never dare to taste him… but Cora could do whatever she wanted.
His fingers loosened, and she realized the script directions said for her to pull free of him and turn away. Ally hesitated before reluctantly letting his hand go. Get a grip, Ally. Follow the script! She rose to her feet, trying to be graceful in the tight leather skirt, then turned so she couldn’t see him. Better. Incredible how a little role-play so quickly blurred the line between fantasy and reality. For a moment she’d been close to forgetting this was just an act.
She lifted the script and took a breath before delivering her next line. “I’m surprised you have the balls to tell me you’re a nark. Aren’t you afraid for your life?”
He stood too. She sensed him behind her, and turned. Although only a head taller, his obvious strength made her feel fragile. Her gaze trailed from his broad shoulders to his toned stomach. Man, did he know how to wear a pair of low-slung jeans. Acting Thomas’s role, his voice and manner were shy and eager to please. But his movements still had the unconscious grace of an athlete, and nothing could disguise his muscled physique.
“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” he said.
She dragged her eyes back to her script. “Then what?”
“I’m afraid of what’s inside me. That if I don’t let it out, I’m going to…” He moved closer. No matter how hesitant his lines, his body language was still commanding and his physical presence made her legs weak. “I’m not sure how to put it into words. And I’m not sure I can control it anymore. I don’t think I want to.”
“What do you feel?” she asked faintly. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re in danger. The police know too much.” He moved to stroke her hair, but he hesitated and dropped his hand before he touched her. The light caught the chiseled plane of his cheek and her breath snagged in her throat.
The timid look he gave her made her want to take his gorgeous face in both hands and force his lips down to hers. Max might be way out of her league, but Thomas seemed so much more vulnerable. Both made her heart quicken. But there was something about Thomas that made her want to be bad.
Script, Ally. Read the script! “You’ll tell me everything they know?”
“I will, if you’ll let me stay with you. I’m afraid for you, but I don’t know how to make you safe.”
The script said she should cross to the window and stare out. Then there was a beat, which she guessed meant she should pause. She stalked to the window, letting her hips sway in the tight leather skirt, knowing he’d be watching. The high stilettos she wore made her feel completely unlike herself, and instead like the woman she pretended to be. No, like the woman she wished she was. Cora didn’t take crap from anyone. She would have seen through Barry from the beginning, instead of letting him pick away at her confidence.
Ally stared out at the view. Thousands of lights twinkled, as though she had the whole city laid out at her feet. From so high up it felt like she could be queen of the world, that she could have everything she wanted, if only she’d reach out and take it.
She strode back to Max, stopping close enough for the warm scent of his cologne to envelop her. Close enough that she could put her hand on his broad chest if she wanted to. Or if she leaned forward, she could press her whole body against his. The thought sent tendrils of excitement through her that made her feel warm and tingly.
But… oh god, was she really going to do this? Pretending to be Cora was so intoxicating, she was in danger of losing herself in the role. And would it be so bad if she did? She stared down at the script, letting her hair drop forward to hide the fact that she was wavering between pulling back and letting herself go completely.
He touched her shoulder. “Ally?”
It was just a brush of his fingertips on the fabric of her blouse, but it felt intimate, as though he’d caressed her bare skin. Thomas wouldn’t have touched Cora without permission.
Instead of answering, she read her next line. A one-word command delivered by a woman who didn’t have any insecurity. A woman completely in control.
“Kneel.”
It didn’t come out like she wanted so she barked the word again.
“KNEEL.”
A spark flashed in his eyes. Was it defiance? Max’s dislike of being told what to do? He slowly lowered himself to his knees, but his gaze didn’t leave hers.
“Drop your head,” ordered Ally. “You’ll tell me everything. And I require total obedience. Is that clear?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t lower his head, but his gaze moved down to her shoes.
She caught her breath. However reluctantly, he’d obeyed her. She sank onto the couch. The script didn’t say to pause, but she left him on his knees while her heart beat fast. He was one hell of a man and she controlled him. It was a heady feeling.
Her drink was still half full on the side table, and she took another sip to wet her dry throat before saying her next line. “Now, you’ll tell me all the information the police have on me, including the names of your colleagues who’ve been listening in on me.”
He lifted his gaze back to her face. Bad boy. He still knelt in front of her, though his expression was anything but obedient. No matter how good an actor he was, it was obvious he couldn’t stand to be at a disadvantage. When he started delivering his next line, she cut him off.
“Stop,” she ordered. “I’ve changed my mind.” He frowned, and she rushed on before he could object. “I want you to kiss my…” She was going to say ‘foot’, but at the last moment she chickened out. “My ankle.”
He hesitated, and she was sure he’d refuse. But he picked up her foot, encased in one of the wicked high heels Geena had lent her. Instead of bending right down, he dropped only his head and lifted her leg high enough that he could press his lips against the top of her foot. His hot breath sent a jolt of sensation up her leg and into her core.
He stroked her ankle and she caught her breath. She’d never had a man kneel in front of her before, let alone a man like him. His touch was a caress. It felt wonderful, sure but gentle. Mmm. She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his hands moving up to her calves. He might think he was being Thomas, but his touch had all of Max’s confidence.
He put her foot back down, and she cracked her eyes open. From this angle, his eyelashes looked impossibly long – the kind of lashes any woman would kill for. They contrasted with the hard edge of his jaw that was a hundred percent masculine. No, make that a thousand percent.
Max sat back on his heels. His expression looked anything but submissive. “Is there something else you’d like?” There was an eager growl in his voice.
Was that in the script? Did she have another line? Darn it, who cared? Ally let the pages fall. She picked up what was left of her chocolate martini and drained it. It was smooth and cold in her mouth, but going down her throat it tu
rned into lava and bubbled through her veins. She slowly licked the chocolate off her lips.
Max watched her face, waiting for her next instruction. His body was still, but his blue eyes were intense. A picture she’d once seen of a cheetah in chains flashed into her mind. Its eyes were like Max’s. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’ve been tamed, they said. Max would fight the chains, but he had to wear them. She had to make him wear them.
Her heart raced. She could do this. Whether it was the strong drink she’d thrown back or the intoxicating surge of power that came with having him on his knees in front of her, her blood was on fire. She wanted to tame him. Hell, she wanted to punish him for being so gorgeous. In the real world he’d never give her a second glance. Well, she was going to make him look.
She put both feet on his thighs and dug her spiked heels into his skin. “Touch me,” she ordered.
# # #
Max ran his fingers down Ally’s calves. He’d never knelt at a woman’s feet before, but from down here the view was nice and the sharpness of her heels through his jeans was strangely exciting. She had shapely legs and her skin was smooth and inviting. He used his fingertips to trace a line down one leg, then slipped off one of her shoes. Her toenails were painted a sexy shade of red.
Supporting her foot with one hand, he massaged it with the other, kneading the sole of her foot. She gave a soft sound of pleasure that quickened his breathing. The soft light from the living room highlighted her cheekbones. Though her eyes were in shadow, they glinted underneath half-lowered lids. Her lips were slightly parted and her soft blouse clung to her curves. She looked damn good.
Her script was on the couch beside her. This foot rubbing wasn’t part of the scene, but when he was trying to get a feel for a character, it helped to play with the part rather than sticking too closely to the script. He liked that Ally was getting into the spirit of it, and she seemed comfortable improvising. He was doing the right thing in hiring a professional. Over the next week she’d help him find enough of Thomas’s character inside himself that it would feel real when he played him.
Max set her foot down and picked up the other one. While he worked on it, she gave another little moan that tightened his jeans.
Cool it. It’s not real. She probably moans like that for all her clients.
Good thing his body had never reacted like this on any of his shoots. Even in the middle of a lingerie campaign surrounded by models in skimpy lace bras and panties, he’d never felt the blood throbbing under his fly like he did now. But Ally’s knees had fallen apart, her skirt was riding up, and it was all at eye level. In front of him, gloriously close, her thighs parted. A path of delicious, creamy skin invited him closer, toward the black fabric nestled between her legs. A sheer scrap of fabric, easily swept aside.
Ally had told him to touch her, but with her feet pressing down on his thighs, he only had ready access to her lower limbs. If he shifted forward he could… but no. Thomas wouldn’t move without permission. Instead he stroked up Ally’s calves, reaching as high as he could without shifting his weight.
“That’s far enough, Thomas.”
Shit. Well, at least she’d called him Thomas. Ally had proved she could play the part and help him get into character. Proved it a bit too painfully, because his jeans were becoming uncomfortable.
It had been too long since he’d taken a woman to bed. He’d had offers, but after Megan, the manager he’d started out with, had taken off with all his earnings, he’d become mistrustful of what people wanted from him. At least with Ally, it would be a straightforward financial transaction with no complications — except for having to act like Thomas instead of being able to enjoy her gorgeous body at will.
If only Ally wasn’t so damn edible. He rubbed her foot harder, and on impulse bent over, bought her cherry-red toes to his lips, and blew gently under the arch of her foot. She squirmed. Ticklish? She let out a sound that was half giggle, half moan. A sound that tightened every muscle in his body and made his blood surge.
He nibbled up the inside of her calf to her knee, where he softly flicked the tip of his tongue into the fold of her leg. Then he moved to her thigh. He kissed her soft, sensitive skin and she grabbed the edge of the couch, squeezing it hard enough that her knuckles went white. Her head fell back, her eyes closed. She drew in a loud breath.
“Stop.” Her voice trembled, but the command was firm.
He sat back and bit off a curse.
“Did I give you permission to kiss me?” she demanded.
He breathed deep. Thomas. He had to be Thomas. “I apologize, Mistress.” He hated using the word Mistress, but speaking in Thomas’s voice made it easier to detach himself from what he was saying. Max wasn’t sorry about kissing her thigh, not when he’d caught a faint whiff of her delectable scent and his cock had swelled rock hard. And not when her gray eyes had lightened to the color of a winter sky – a sign, he suspected, that she was every bit as turned on as he was.
“I have a punishment for you.” She spread her legs wider so he had a better view of her black panties. Between her thighs, the fabric had darkened. She was damp. The sight made his stiff cock throb. Hell! How come she was sending him off the Richter scale so easily? Ally was beautiful, yes, but he’d slept with equally attractive women who hadn’t made his body react like this. He’d been dreading having to act submissive, but maybe being forced to hold back was actually stoking his fire.
“Yes, Mistress.” This time it wasn’t so difficult to say the word. The tough part was keeping his hands by his sides and not running them up her long legs. Or even better, kissing up her thighs and ripping her panties off with his teeth.
She must have sensed he was struggling to keep from touching her. “Sit on your hands,” she ordered. “I’m going to make you keep control.”
He did what he was told and she spread her legs even wider. She rucked her skirt up and he caught his breath. She wouldn’t… would she?
She moved her hand to her panties. She glided one finger across the thin fabric, rested it for a moment on top of her mound, then moved it between her thighs. She traced a line around her opening using the tip of her finger, slowly exploring her sex. She moved up to linger over her clit, rubbing in slow circles. Her panties were dark with her juices, the wet fabric clinging to her. She moaned, stroking herself.
Max clenched his jaw, clamping his teeth to stop himself from making a sound. Only the fact that he was sitting on his hands kept him from touching her. His cock was so hard it ached.
After only a minute, her hand stilled. Her luminous eyes glowed behind half-lowered lids. “Do you like what you see?”
“Yes,” he managed, his voice strained with lust. Fuck yes.
“Good.” Her legs closed.
“Don’t—!”
“I didn’t say you could speak.”
He made a sound of protest through clamped teeth, but she ignored it.
She stood up, smoothed her skirt down, and slipped her feet back into her shoes. “Do I have the job?”
What the hell? She couldn’t leave him like this! He could have sworn she wanted to take it further as much as he did. He rose swiftly and caught her around the waist, pulling her to him. Her body molded against his. She let her head fall back, parted her lips and her lovely eyes widened with surprise. She moved her hands to his chest, but she didn’t push him away. Max pulled her tight against him, locking her small shape against his hardness until she gasped. Can you feel what you’ve done to me?
For an instant he was tempted to bend his head and claim her mouth. But no domme would thank him for doing that without permission. And did women in her profession have a rule against kissing on the lips? Or was that prostitutes— maybe it was just something he’d seen in a movie?
Her hands hardened against his chest, and with an effort he loosened his grip on her waist.
She stepped backward, her cheeks flushed. “I’m in charge. You don’t get to do that unless I say.”
; She was right. Max didn’t invite her here to make love to her, but to become Thomas. He’d let himself get carried away, but it wouldn’t happen again. From now on he’d stay completely in control, even if he had to stand awkwardly because his cock felt like it was five times its normal size.
He clenched his fists with the effort of forcing himself to push his desire away. It helped to not look at her flushed face and bright eyes. Her chest was heaving with shallow breaths, and he had to will his gaze from her breasts, barely hidden in a white lace bra under that translucent blouse.
He turned away, found a little beer was left in the bottle on the coffee table, and drained it. Then he cleared his throat. “You have the job. I have a contract for you to sign.”
“A contract?”
“The terms of your employment.” He got it from his desk, welcoming the chance to cool off further. He gave her the piece of paper and a pen, and waited for her to read what was essentially a confidentiality agreement that also included the details of how long they’d be away and the terms of payment. She’d get the ten thousand dollars at the end of the five days, and in return she’d keep her mouth shut. The contract would ensure she couldn’t sell her story, and where they were going was miles from town with no internet access. Even if Ally got tempted to tell someone what they were doing, short of sending up smoke signals, she’d be out of luck.
“Sign on the dotted line, then come back tomorrow morning, ready to go.”
She stared down at the paper, her gray eyes clouding. “Where are we going?”
“I can’t take the chance of the paparazzi finding out about you and jumping to the wrong conclusion, so I’ve booked a secluded house that’ll be totally private.”
“You think I can drop everything and leave?”
“I’m offering ten thousand dollars,” he reminded her.
She put the end of the pen between her lips and stared at the paper for a long time.