Sweet Backlash

by Violet Heart

  She nearly came off the bed with intense pleasure. He sucked again. She grabbed his head and rocked her hips, needing him to set the pace that would finish her journey to orgasm.

  He met her need. Suck. A lave upward to suck again. A lave down. Suck.

  "Aah-aah-aah!" She closed her eyes and strained toward the peak.

  Suck. Suck. Suck.

  Stars exploded behind her lids. Every muscle in her body tensed and her insides convulsed. She shattered into tiny fragments, suspended pieces high overhead, twisting and dancing in rapture, then coming together once again. A strange sound cut through and she realized she was screaming. It wound down to a sigh as she calmed. Her lungs exerted extra effort to get her much needed air, and her heart punched a tattoo against her ribs.

  He chuckled. "It was good for me, too," he said.

  She lay spread-eagle, unable to move as he stretched along her side. He kissed her, and she tasted chocolate cream and something earthy. Her own flavor. She fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Chapter 17

  A knock on Melony's bedroom door woke her from a deep sleep. Sitting, she looked around with groggy eyes. Sunshine made her pleated shade glow. What time was it?

  "Melony? Can I come in?"

  "No." She rubbed itchy lids and sighed. She had woken in Chip's arms, on his bed in the living room last night, and had to get alone. Walking circles in her room until midnight, she had trembled with rage. She had never wanted to whip a man into submission so badly. The way he had made her beg, the way he had commanded, had filled her with a dangerous wrath.

  Now, in the light of day and after a few hours’ sleep alone in her own bed, she realized she had misunderstood. Remembering without the strong emotion to warp her recall, it became clear that he had not made her beg, nor had he ordered her to do anything. He had simply required she tell him what she wanted. He needed her permission to do something she had told him not to. It occurred to her that she would've held the session against him, accused him of doing something to her she didn't want, if he hadn't made her clearly state her desire.

  The knob jiggled. Damn it. She had told him no.

  "Melony? I woke up and you were gone."

  She caught a whiff of coffee. It got her moving. "I'll be right out. Let me get dressed." Great. Her words came out so slurred, she sounded drunk.

  "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," she answered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and running her hands through her hair.

  "You don't sound fine."

  Now he got on her nerves. "I'm fine. I promise."

  "I have a cup of coffee for you."

  Was he trying to bribe her to open the door? She really wanted that coffee, though. She padded over and unlocked it. She opened it only enough to snatch the cup from his hand then slammed and locked it. On the other side, he chuckled. Melony smiled, amazed his laughter didn't irk her.

  "It's getting late," he said. "If we're going to get my car, we should probably get going pretty soon."

  "Ten minutes." She took a sip from the cup and opening her underwear drawer.

  "Take your time," he drawled.

  Smart ass. She had let him break too many of her personal rules yesterday. To gain perspective, she determined not to get intimate with him. Achieving that, however, meant she would have to keep her eyes off him, because the sight of him made her want to touch him. The man was too sexy. She took a double gulp of coffee, wincing at the burn.

  Dressing hurriedly in dark jeans, a pale yellow cotton sweater, and blue loafers, she wished the puffy pinkness rimming her eyes in the full-length mirror's reflection would magically disappear. It didn't happen. In the bathroom, she ran a toothbrush over her teeth, raked a brush through her hair, and wiped a cold, wet washcloth across her face. It helped with the puffiness, but not much.

  She expected to find him on the other side of the door, but the hall stood empty. She found Chip in the kitchen, putting dishes away from the dishwasher. Careful to keep her gaze from his face, she glanced at his shoulder. A long, gray sleeve hugged the flexing muscles as he reached into an overhead cabinet to put plates away. Her chest constricted at the memory of his shoulder, sans gray fabric, bunching with the movement of pushing open her legs.

  A telltale throb pressed against the crotch of her jeans. Shit. Dropping her eyes, her gaze landed on his tight rear encased in worn, washed-out green Dockers. Her hand had held that ass while she sucked his cock. She gasped and he turned.

  "Are you okay?" He narrowed his eyes. "You look like hell."

  "Thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel special." She rolled her eyes as an excuse to get them off of him. She kept them off, noticing he had put the sofa bed away and straightened the living room. The only signs he had stayed were a bed pillow on the couch and his suitcases near the door.

  He seemed to ignore her snarky remark and asked, "Are you hungry? There's an omelet on the island. Hope you like ham, onion, and cheese."

  "You've been busy." Her stomach grumbled. She set her coffee next to her breakfast and dragging a high stool to the island's counter. "You're a morning person, aren't you?"

  "Actually, I'm not. I like to sleep late. And I usually don't talk much before nine o'clock."

  "You talked up a storm at my door this morning," she accused.

  "It's ten-thirty."

  What? The wall clock confirmed his announcement. Talk about sleeping late. She'd slept ten hours? It only felt like six. Frank probably stirred at his place by now. They had to get a move on.

  She shoved a bite of food into her mouth. Delicious. "This is good. Thanks."

  "No problem." He closed cabinet doors.

  She listened to him transfer dirty dishes from the sink and stove to the dishwasher, stubbornly avoiding looking at him. Having him in close proximity had the effect she wanted to avoid, however. Knowing he stood two steps away turned her on. How would she get through a car ride with him?

  She took three more bites of omelet and downed half her coffee. "Okay, let's go. I really don't want to deal with Frank today."

  "I hear ya," he agreed.

  She hopped off the stool and went to the coat rack. In her purse, she dug for her keys while Chip clasped the collar around his neck and opened the door. At the car, he opened and held the driver's side door for her. Part of her wanted to protest the show of chivalry, but it occurred to her he did it for appearances, as part of his role as her slave. Later, at the corner stoplight, he cleared his throat.

  "Something on your mind?" she asked, wishing the coffee would kick in.

  He tossed the end of the leash over his shoulder in a casual manner, like nothing. "Yeah. Last night."

  Not really something she wanted to talk about. Keeping her eyes on the red light and hoping it would end the subject, she said, "It was good for me."

  "I'm glad. It was good for me, too. But was I the first to go down on you?"

  She grimaced. The light turned green and she used driving as an excuse to stare straight ahead. "Why do you ask?"

  "You were scared. I wasn't expecting that."

  She could feel him staring. "I wasn't scared."

  His voice gentled. "Look, don't deny it. I was there. It's okay if you were. But I need to know if I was your first."

  "Why?"

  "Can't you just answer my question without giving me a hard time?" Frustration came through in his tone.

  She sighed. "Yes, you were my first." He was her first everything.

  "I don't get it, Melony. You're a dominatrix and you never commanded a slave to go down on you?"

  "It's not like that for me." Why was she talking about this? She clapped her lips together.

  "What do you mean?"

  She snuck a quick peek at him and turned her attention to the road. His genuine curiosity compelled her to explain. "I don't dominate for sexual gratification. It gets my submissives off, but that's not why I do it."

  "It's not?" He sounded dumbfounded.

  "No, it's
not."

  "Am I out of line to ask why you do it then?"

  "Yes."

  He went quiet and she breathed a sigh of relief. At the warehouse parking lot, she pulled into the space beside his Mercedes. Chip removed his collar and dropped it to the floor then got out, but he didn't close the door.

  Bending so he could look at her through the opening, he said, "Maybe yesterday didn't mean anything to you, but it meant something to me." He stood quietly a moment, as if waiting for her to speak, then said, "I'll see you back at the apartment."

  Once again, she was in the position of having to trust him. He now had his car. And his wallet. He could easily drive to freedom. His things at her apartment could be replaced. The more she got to know him, however, the more she learned he was a man of his word.

  Sure enough, he followed her back. She never lost sight of him in her rear view mirror. At the apartment building, he pulled his car into the other space marked with her apartment number. He got out with his briefcase in hand. It reminded her of Friday night, when he had appeared at her door asking her about his Monday morning meeting with Judge Edmonds, and she smiled.

  He shoved his keys into one of the satchel's front pockets and met her at the hood of her car. "Let's go do something fun."

  Skeptical of what he might consider 'fun,' she asked, "Like what?"

  "I'm new in town, so I don't know what's available. What's open on a Sunday morning?" He grinned.

  "You really want me to pick?" Melony didn't know if he'd have interest in what she had in mind for some serious fun.

  With a curt nod, he said, "You pick. What do you want to do?"

  She tossed him her key ring. "Put your briefcase in the apartment. I'll wait for you here."

  "Don't you want me to put the leash on?" he asked.

  "No. We can leave it in the car for now."

  He beamed her a bright smile and jogged across the lot. She couldn't help but watch, his movements agile and athletic. Did he know how good he looked? She didn't think so.

  When he returned, she waited in the car and he joined her. He handed the keys over. "So where are we going?" Locking his seatbelt in place, he cast her an eager smirk.

  She started the engine, enjoying his excited energy. He brought to mind a child about to go to the circus for the first time. "It's a surprise," she said.

  "I love surprises." He rubbed his hands along the fabric covering his thighs.

  Twenty minutes later, she drove into the Pro-Cart parking lot. "Here we are."

  "Pro-Cart? What is this?" He stared at the enormous white building.

  "Go cart racing." She hadn't come here in years. She used to come regularly, but hadn't sought a good time like this in too long.

  "Cool. You come here a lot?"

  "Used to."

  She reached into the back seat for her purse, and when she turned, he had already gotten out and come around. He opened her door and offered his hand. He said with a bow, "My lady."

  Gazing at his hand, she said, "I don't think Frank or any of his associates are around. You can stop the act."

  "Who says I'm acting?" He took her hand from her lap and urged her out. "Come on. Let's go forget we're grown-ups for a few hours. They sell food? Can we have lunch here?"

  "Yeah," she said, catching his contagious enthusiasm. "Pizza."

  Chapter 18

  Melony's alarm beeped, but it didn't matter. She'd lain awake for half an hour, trying to keep her eyes from crossing. Chip was so hot, she didn't know how she got through the previous day without jumping on him. Now she paid the price. She faced her first day as his secretary with nerves so taut she wanted to scream.

  Sticking her head out her bedroom door, she called, "Time to get up."

  "I'm up," came his growled response from the living room.

  She smiled. Yep, he was definitely not a morning person. Her smile melted, however, as she imagined him rolling over, the sheets sliding lower. A shadow of beard probably tinted his jaw. Remembering the hard-on he'd sported that first morning, when she had him cuffed to the bar, made her more horny.

  She forced her feet to carry her into the bathroom and got into the shower. Attempting to relieve her frustration, she soaped her body and massaged her pussy. It didn't work. She wanted his touch, not her own.

  Gritting her teeth, she managed to get through her routine. Her make-up and hair complete, she stood in front of her closet and studied her wardrobe. She needed an edge. Something to wear that would bolster her confidence when facing the ladies in the litigation department and the attorneys. Deciding on a light green wrap dress made with Lycra that clung to her curves and swished with a sexy flare at the hem right above her knees, she chose black pumps then moved to her dresser to find the appropriate undergarments.

  She pulled the last pair of pantyhose from her drawer and made a mental note to pick up more next time she went shopping. With a slight tremble in her hands, she drew the silky film over a foot and to her knee. She really had to get some relief. Tonight, she promised. Repeating the action for the second leg, she grasped the hose and pulled them up her thighs. Her fingernail went through material.

  "Shit!" She rifled through the drawer but knew she didn't have another pair.

  Back at the closet, she slammed her fists onto her hips and ran her gaze along the choices. Nothing looked as good as the dress. The red suit was too loud for a Monday, especially if she didn't have a meeting to attend. The black pantsuit was too funereal. And the navy shirtdress was too severe. Everything else looked too soft for her mood. The green dress would have to do, pantyhose or not. She shaved, so she'd pass.

  "How's it coming in there?" Chip called from the hallway.

  Removing the dress from the hanger, she answered, "Be out in a minute." Mindful of her hair, she drew the green fabric over her head, smoothed the material in place, and adjusted the deep V so her bra didn't show. She stepped into her pumps, checked her reflection in the full-length mirror then hurried to the kitchen. "Ready to go?"

  * * * *

  Chip had woken with a dick hard enough to knock holes in the wall, and it had nothing to do with having to pee. A cool shower had helped, but seeing Melony in that dress got him worked up all over again. She had her hair swept into a feminine twist with curls in a pretty spray at the crown of her head. More than anything, he wanted to bring it down, peel that dress off of her, and take her to the carpet.

  Setting down his coffee cup, he cleared his throat and adjusted his suddenly too-tight tie. "Do you need to eat?"

  "I'll get something at Pop's Kitchen." She raked him with her eyes and arched a brow.

  "What do you think? Too much for a first meeting with Judge Edmonds?" Thrusting out his arms, he turned a circle.

  "Very stylish. You look like a picture from a men's fashion magazine."

  He puffed out his chest. "I didn't know men had fashion magazines."

  She laughed. "Come on. You'll want to beat Bob into the office this morning to make a good impression."

  At the door, she handed him his collar. "I regret agreeing to wear this thing," he said.

  "You didn't have a problem with it yesterday," she pointed out.

  "I also didn't have a tie on." He scowled at the neckband.

  "It's a short ride to work from here. You don't have to wear it for long. Do you have your parking pass?"

  He grasped the handle of his briefcase waiting on the floor next to the door, and patted the side. "Right in here."

  Taking the satchel from him, she said, "Put on the collar and let's get going. I promise you can take it off as soon as we pull into the parking garage."

  With a huff, he latched it on, handed her the leash, and took his briefcase. "None of your neighbors have seen us like this. What would they think if they did?" He opened the door and ushered her out with a hand to the small of her back. Instantly, he realized touching her was a mistake. His johnson came to attention at the feel of her warmth on the palm of his hand, and he had to rearrange
his slacks.

  She chuckled and cut him a sideways glance. "They're used to it. You're my fourth partner in a year, and my second inductee. Remember?"

  "Thanks for reminding me. This is humiliating."

  "I guess so," she said with a shrug, unlocking her car.

  "Real understanding there, Melony."

  She laughed and he smiled, the happy sound making him feel better for some reason. On the way, she briefed him on Judge Edmonds' favorite topics and aspects of the man's personal life that would give him an edge in their meeting later. At the office building, he handed her the parking pass so they could enter the garage without getting charged a fee, then removed the neckband and shoved it in the glove compartment.

  He didn't miss her tension. She didn't say a thing from the moment she passed the ticket booth at the garage entrance until they arrived via elevator on their floor. She didn't even look at him. When the door opened, three people saw her and came running. Chip sidestepped out of the elevator, leaving her behind but listening to the questions and accusations. He would put his briefcase and suit jacket in his office then go back and rescue her.

  In his office, he noted that his trunk of books had arrived and sat next to his desk. The blinds he had ordered hung with perfection over the glass wall. He set his briefcase on his desk, placed his jacket on a hook at the back of his door then opened the blinds. To his surprise, Melony already stood at her desk, talking on the telephone. He shook his head, not able to imagine people accosting him at the elevator and not giving him a few minutes to settle in before bombarding him with questions. She seemed to handle it beautifully, however.

  He watched her for a few minutes, admiring her ability to multitask. While talking on the telephone, she booted her computer, jotted notes on a pad, then took down a notebook and removed a page in time to hand it to a passing office runner. She hadn't even set down her purse yet. In fact, she seemed completely unruffled. He didn't miss a flash of anger as she hung up the phone.

  He stepped to the doorway to ask if she needed him to say something to someone, but Bob approached and claimed him for a meeting. The morning flew by in a blur with a meeting with the partners, a trip to the court with a personal invitation to Judge Edmonds' chambers thanks to Melony's excellent information, and lunch with Bob, Stewart, and Rolland, the three most senior partners involved in the firm's active litigation.