The bartender set a cold bottle of beer in front of him.
“Thanks, Bear.”
“How much longer, Duke?”
“Not sure. I can’t get a straight answer.”
Laughing, the bartender slapped Duke’s shoulder and almost unseated him, though Duke didn’t seem to mind. Cory leaned on the table to get a better view and watched while Duke drank his beer. She debated various ways to approach him. She had an insane need to talk to him, to find out for herself how he was doing, and if he really hated her. At the same time, every part of her that was feminine wanted to know him on that deep level shared only by lovers. If he did hate her, she’d risk a one-time fling with her being incognito.
She practiced various accents in her head, finally came up with the idea to simply lower her voice and attempt to be more casual in her speech. Angie constantly teased her about sounding like a professor. It had been a year. Surely he wouldn’t remember her voice. Gathering her courage, she finished off the Coke in her glass and slid out of the booth. Doing her best to act casual, she approached the bar.
“Hi,” she purred, rather proud of herself. “May I get a refill?” She set her empty glass on the bar.
Bear tossed her a “what the hell, lady?” look but filled a clean glass with ice and topped it off with Coke from the bar’s soda gun. “Here ya go, hon. I’ll put it on your tab.”
“Thank you.” She glanced at Duke and realized he was listening, his head cocked in her direction. “Hi,” she murmured, keeping her voice soft and low.
“You talking to me?”
“Uh huh.”
“Why?”
Cory rocked back, her expression twisting into one of confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You a pro?”
She sputtered in outrage. “I…why would you think that?”
“Because you’re talking to me.”
“Well, excuse me. I saw a nice looking man sitting by himself at the bar, and I thought I’d say hello. I didn’t mean to interrupt your party for one.”
“Did Dalton put you up to this?”
“Who’s Dalton?”
“What would you do if I said my boyfriend?”
“I’d say the two of you need counseling if he’s trying to set you up with me.”
Duke shifted on the stool, swinging around to face her. Staring into those sunglasses and seeing her own reflection was disconcerting.
“Good answer. And he’s not.”
“He’s not what?”
“My boyfriend or trying to hook me up.”
“Well, I’m relieved to hear that. I don’t move in on someone else’s territory. As for hooking up, I suspect you do rather well on your own.”
“What’s your name?”
“Angie. Well, Angela. My friends call me Angie.”
“I bet you get the ol’ ‘You look like an angel’ line a lot.”
She chuckled, knowing Angie did indeed get that one almost constantly. “I’m glad you didn’t use it.”
“Simple reason for that. You could be ugly as sin since I can’t see what you look like.” Duke’s mouth twisted up in a sneer, and he sounded so bitter Cory wanted to reach out and hug him.
“I figured, given the cane.”
“You saw me come in.”
“I did.”
“What’s your angle, angel?”
“I don’t have one. I was waiting for my friend to show up, but she’s been delayed.” Which was true. Angie was now shacked up with two guys in their hotel room. “The waitress was busy so I came over to the bar to get a refill, and since you’re alone too, I thought I’d say said hi. Again, my apologies for intruding.”
“Don’t go getting uppity.”
Cory bit back a retort. “Then stop being rude.”
Duke laughed, a real, honest laugh, and Cory’s insides went liquid. She wanted to touch him so badly she curled her fingers into her palms to stop herself.
“Touché. Sit down. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“I’ll sit, but I buy my own drinks.”
“You always this difficult?”
“You always this bossy?”
His knee brushed along her thigh, and Cory felt like she’d been branded. The heat was instant and consuming. Her breath caught and hitched before she could stop it. Duke leaned closer. “Give me your hand.”
She hesitated a moment then touched her fingers to his palm. He drew her hand closer then with a yank, he placed it on his hardening erection. She jerked away.
“Yeah, just like I figured, little girl. You’re too scared to play.”
Deep down, she was, but she wasn’t about to lose this chance. She’d likely never run into Duke again, and she desperately wanted to finish what had barely started in Africa, even if she did so under false pretenses.
“Do you have a room?” When Duke sucked in his breath, she got some of her bravado back.
“You want to come to my room?”
“I’m not in the habit of touching men in public places. You want to play? Fine. But we do it in private.”
“Duke?” Bear glared at her and his voice held a warning.
“I got this. Bear.”
“You sure?”
“Oh yeah.”
Chapter 10
DUKE THOUGHT about the implication of Bear’s hesitancy. He did have this. In spades. For the first time since he woke up in the damn hospital his dick was alert and ready to go exploring. Something about this unknown woman’s presence stirred him, and he fully planned to enjoy it. Every last slap, tickle, and climax.
The thought of experiencing a good fuck with no vision but the rest of his senses heightened? Oh, hell yeah. The idea excited him. His left palm rested on her forearm while his right tap-tap-tapped the hated white cane. “End of the block, cross the street and turn left.”
“Okay.” Tension wound through Cory’s insides. Was she really doing this? Angie had told her for years she was too staid and uptight, urging her to just “let go” and be wild for a night. Well, here’s to small rebellions, she thought.
They waited for a car and a few bicyclists to clear the street before crossing. At the corner, she turned left, and he matched his stride to hers as they crossed Simonton. “Where to now?”
“Keep walking.”
“All right.”
“Not exactly a brilliant conversationalist, are you?”
“Do you want conversation…or action?” Goodness, she was breathless. Her cheeks heated, but she couldn’t deny she was enjoying the role she played.
“Some men like a little of both.”
“Oh.”
He snorted at her surprise, and she giggled—a low, sexy sound from her throat that wrapped around his dick. Oh, yeah. He might not have any idea what she looked like, but he’d bet her lips were gonna feel fantastic around his shaft. “You did that on purpose.”
“Did I?” She purred a little, enjoying the flirting—something she’d never been proficient at. She leaned closer to him so their arms brushed.
“Stop on the corner. And don’t run me into the damn fire hydrant.”
From his growl, she figured he’d probably bumped into the thing a time or two. “Who puts a hydrant in the middle of the sidewalk?”
“Key West Public Works.”
Cory bit back her smile. “Said hydrant is dead ahead, skipper. Left or right of it?” Duke stiffened when she called him skipper, and her pulse accelerated. Had she messed up by using the nautical term?
“Right. And right again in the middle of the street. House sits on the corner of the block, left hand side.”
When they arrived, she got a sense of stucco and tile, with a curving drive and portico, a fence and lots of greenery. He led her to the front door and used a palm pad to key them inside. The lights were low, and she bumped a table as they entered.
Duke took her hand and secured it in the belt cinching the waistband of his jeans. “Follow me.”
They took a circuitous route through t
he large house, which they seemed to have to themselves. “Do you live here alone?”
He roared with laughter. “Not hardly. There’s anywhere from two to twelve of us here at any given time. We call the place the Barracks.”
“Wow, either the house is huge or you guys really get along.”
“Yeah.”
With that non-answer, he led her to a room with large windows overlooking a sparkling pool. He pulled her hand free and gave her a little push toward the king-size bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Cory slipped off her sandals and sat gingerly on the side of the bed. Maybe this was a really dumb idea after all. She should take off before it went any further.
With what seemed like practiced ease, Duke flicked the curtains closed. The room was now pitch dark. Cory sucked in a breath.
“Problem?”
She worked to control her breathing. “No offense, but it’s a little dark in here.”
“Welcome to my world.” The bitterness he’d been sugar-coating during their walk returned, icing his voice.
Cloth rustled, followed by two hollow thunks. Boots, she guessed. Cory hated being blind like this, and she bit back the sob forming. This was Duke’s world now. Forever dark. And while she might not have dropped that bomb or missile or whatever it was that blew up the campsite in Africa, she still felt partially responsible for his blindness. She would give him this night in apology.
Duke stalked the woman in the dark, focusing on her breathing and the heat she radiated. He liked the idea that she was helpless in the dark. That put him in charge, and he needed control, no matter how short-lived and nebulous.
He located her where she sat on the corner of his bed. Pushing her knees apart, he stepped between them and realized she wore a skirt. Duke yanked the shirt she wore over her head, and her long, and hopefully clever, fingers curled around his forearms. He ran his index fingers under her bra straps and flicked them off her shoulders before moving on to find and cup tits round enough to fill his palms.
She panted softly, and gulped at his touch. Her hands fell away before he felt a tentative tug at his shirt. He shoved her hands away, shackling them together by the wrist behind her back with one hand.
“Yes or no, Angie. If it’s yes, I’m taking you.” His voice was as thick as the air. “My way.”
“I—” His forcefulness intrigued her. “Yes.”
“Then no more talking. No nothing unless I give you permission. Understood?” He felt the fine tremor that ran through her. “Do as I say, angel, and you’ll get what you want.” He hooked the elastic waistband of her skirt with his thumb and discovered it was made of some crinkly material. Urging her hips up, he stripped it from her. “But I get what I want first.”
And he wanted her naked. He wanted to taste her. Wanted to feel all that skin beneath his hands. And her mouth. He wanted her mouth on him. Duke leaned in, nipped her bottom lip. “Last time I’m asking. Do you agree to this?”
“Let go of my hands.”
He merely slid his free hand down into her panties and tightened his grip on her wrists when her body jerked. “Not unless you say no. You tell me no, you get up and get the hell out. Right now.”
He waited, impatient but unwilling to force things. When she breathed a second “yes,” he found her lips with his, traced them with the tip of his tongue before pushing it into her mouth as his finger slipped inside her, teasing and arousing. This was a patient seduction as opposed to the imprisoning of her wrist.
Cory protested, pulling futilely against his steel grip, even as she tried to fight her panic. “Please,” she begged softly, though she wasn’t sure what she was pleading for. Part of her resisted the bondage while another part welcomed it, welcomed the loss—no, the surrender of her control.
She was hot and wet and trembling. He wanted to touch, to taste, to explore and exploit every inch of her. Releasing her hands, he pushed her back against the bed before moving down her body. He knelt, and when his mouth clamped over her, his tongue working under the edge of her panties to taste her desire, she detonated.
She grabbed at his hair, encountered the sunglasses and knocked them off. He growled, snapped the sides of her panties and jerked them between her legs. He spread her wider and shouldered in, licking, nipping, devouring. She choked, gasping for breath, but he only gripped her hips and continued to destroy her. Duke smiled against her pussy. She was his now. Here in the dark that was his world, this woman he’d picked up on a whim was his. He didn’t need his sight to make her cry out with pleasure.
Cory’s world was coming apart at the seams. Color swirled behind her eyelids—color from her imagination because the room remained pitch black. When she opened her eyes, there was nothing. She couldn’t discern the shadow man making love to her from the Stygian black filling the room. His scent filled her, reminding her of fresh air and open seawater. His mouth left her feeling feverish; his tongue a burning brand tormenting her so perfectly only orgasm would free her from this sweet torture.
Heat filled her, crawling through her veins, circling that secret spot deep inside she kept hidden from the world. His finger entered her while his busy-busy mouth focused on her clitoris. Her blood pounded and her bones felt brittle, like they would break if she didn’t reach an orgasm soon. She needed it like she needed breath. Needed him like she needed air.
“Please,” she begged again.
He didn’t stop.
She bucked off the bed, but he held her hips down with a heavy forearm across her abdomen. She clawed at his hair again. “No more, I can’t…please…I can’t take anymore.”
“You can.” He dragged her arms over her head and again locked her wrists together with his hand. “Don’t come until I give you permission. You won’t come until I let you. Do you understand?”
Her whimper would have to suffice for an answer. She was beyond words.
“Don’t move.” The command bruised her, as she lay there in the dark. The pressure from his hand left her wrists, but she didn’t move, didn’t relax. Straining, she listened for his next move, for some hint of his next assault on her senses.
A whisper of cloth against skin. The bed dipped. Cory almost screamed when his finger thrust inside her only to withdraw to trace up across her belly. His hand dipped again, two fingers entering, pumping once, twice, three times before he removed them and painted her lips with her own desire.
“I want to taste you when I kiss you. I want your lips slick with your cream when I push my dick between them.”
He bent his head, flicked the corner of her mouth with his tongue. “So. Damn. Good.” He kissed her, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. The tip of his dick was covered with pre-cum. He wanted to be buried deep inside her, but first, he wanted to taste himself in her mouth.
Duke pushed to his knees and backed off the bed. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the edge. “Sit.” Fisting his hand in thick, silky hair, he helped her up. “Open your mouth.”
He traced her lips with his dick, then holding her chin down with his thumb, he pushed into her mouth. “Oh, God, baby. So fucking good.” He rocked deeper, holding her head with both hands now. When the head of his dick hit the back of her throat, he withdrew before she gagged. He wanted to be in control, not an asshole.
Pumping into her mouth slow and sure, Duke eased his grip on her hair. Thick strands rubbed through his fingers like threaded satin. He briefly wondered at the color then decided it was dark. Black maybe. Yeah. Black satin shimmering under a sun he might never see again. At this moment, he didn’t care. He just wanted this woman to please him, and in return pleasure her.
After one more thrust, he pulled out with a small pop. Pulling her up to stand, he claimed her mouth for another kiss, tasting the salty tang of his cum mixed with her own slightly sweet flavor. She shivered, her arms hanging limply at her sides.
“You please me, angel. Now I’m going to give you what you want. Get back on the bed.”
She hesitate
d and his fingers fisted, pulling her hair slightly. He felt her wince. “You got something to say to me.” A little nod. “Speak.”
“I…I’m not on birth control.”
Duke rocked back. Damn. This was a twist he hadn’t planned on. Wasn’t every woman on birth control? At least she’d told him. And fuck…he should have thought of condoms. In this day and age, a guy could never be too sure because pregnancy wasn’t the only issue. No problem. He was a fucking Navy SEAL. He always had a Plan B.
“Get on the bed, up at the headboard. I want you to put your hands over your head and hold on to the bars, legs spread wide. I’ll know when I get back if you’ve obeyed me or not.”
A little noise escaped, and he took it for a choked-off question so he explained. “One of the roommates is a horn dog. I’m going after condoms.” He released her, turned her, and gave a smart smack to her ass. “Now do as I say.”
He knew the house now, had mapped it out with steps and touches. Ten strides to his door. Turn left. Fifteen steps and bingo. The door to Dalton’s room. He knocked, just in case, but got no answer. He pushed into the room, felt his way over to the attached bath and dug in the lavatory drawers until he found a box filled with the requisite foil packs. He took the whole box.
Retracing his steps, he paused at the door, listening. Breathing. Hers. Measured as if she was trying to get control. Yeah, like he’d let that happen. He slipped through the door and slammed it shut. The woman on his bed squealed, but cut it off. He reminded himself to give her permission to scream when he made her come. With sure strides he was back at the bed, crawling up between her spread legs.
Running his palms up her thighs, he dipped a thumb into her pussy. Still hot, wet, and swollen. Good. He inserted two fingers, using his thumb to rub her clit. More liquid coated his hand as her body bowed up.
“What do you want?”
Her words whispered in the dark. “I want you inside me.”
Double Cross (Hard Target Book 1) Page 8