His Private Pleasure

by Donna Kauffman

  He leaned in, gripped her wrists and pulled them to his open fly, pressed her flat palms against the rigid length of him. “But I’ll bet everything else I own that at no time during those adventures was the guy calling the shots. If you’ve ever done anything like this before, I’m as certain as a man can be that you’re the one standing, and they’re the ones with their hands tied to the bedposts.” He curved his hands around hers, then peeled her fingers away as she started to stroke him. “Tell me I’m wrong, Liza.”

  She snatched her hands from his and let the key loop slide off the thumb where she’d hooked it. She didn’t ask for help, but maneuvered the key all by herself, all the while maintaining eye contact with him. The cuffs fell to the tile floor with a clang.

  She slid back on the table and hopped off the other side, pulling her shirt the rest of the way off her arms and untangling the bra from its folds.

  “You didn’t answer me. But then, I guess this is answer enough.”

  She spun on him, sparks shooting from her eyes, then bit off whatever she’d been about to say and yanked on her shirt, sans the bra, and began looking for her pants.

  He scooped them up, then reached down for her shoes, and snagged them with his free hand. He held them out to her.

  “Just like that,” she finally spluttered. “It’s your way or nothing, is that it?”

  “I don’t believe I said anything like that.”

  She snatched her belongings from him. “You’re on a real power trip, you know? I’m not the one with control issues here.”

  He took her elbow, turned her back around. “We can go upstairs right now. Do whatever it is you want to do. You can be in charge.”

  “You might think differently when you’re the one in handcuffs.”

  “Maybe. I’ve never had the pleasure. Might be the best damn sex of my life. Given your presence, that’s highly likely.”

  Her mouth twitched despite her best efforts to keep the scowl on her face. “You can be that nonchalant about letting me shackle you to your own bed?”

  “I doubt that anything that happens between the two of us will be classified as nonchalant.”

  “You’ll let me do whatever I want?”

  “Well, I’m not much for pain. I prefer pleasure. But then I think you know that about me by now.”

  He saw her throat work and felt his body leap in response.

  She let her pants and heels drop to the floor and stepped closer to him. He took her arms and stopped her. “One thing.”

  “Ah. Here come the rules.”

  “No rules while you’re in charge.”

  “So what is this one thing?”

  “Once I let you have it your way, we come back down here and finish what we started.”

  A sly smile crossed her face, but not before he saw the flicker of not quite panic, but something close to it in her eyes. Frustration maybe. She covered it well. “You’re thinking you’ll still be able to do something else when I’m done with you?”

  “I’m thinking it will be a demonstration of what I’ve been trying to get you to understand all along.”

  She tugged free of his grasp. “I don’t need your lessons.”

  “Good, because I’m not in the habit of teaching. I had more an exploration in mind.”

  “What makes you think I want or need this little exploration of yours? You don’t even know me.”

  “You’re right. Sort of.” He closed the distance and tugged her into his arms despite her initial resistance. “You said yourself you were here to find out something new about yourself. If we go upstairs, do things your way, it will be mind-blowing for sure, for both of us. I think we know that much. But will it be anything else for you? Anything new? Different?”

  “I’ve never had you before. That will make it different.”

  The way she said it—“had you”—made him twitch. Made him wonder why in the hell he was pushing her in this direction, a direction that might leave him hard and alone, when he could have what they both wanted by saying the word and following her to his bed.

  He still wasn’t sure. Didn’t know exactly what it was about her that provoked him to keep provoking her. Maybe it was instinct telling him there was something greater to be had here than the two of them just jumping in the sack together and going at each other like wild animals.

  Which, when he thought about it like that, made him wonder if he was completely nuts.

  “So, this is some kind of selfless lesson on your part. Teach poor Liza how to open herself up to the right man—you, of course—so she can get in touch with her inner submissive self.”

  “The only thing I asked you to submit was your resistance to letting someone else—me—be in charge.” He reached out and traced a finger along her rigid jaw, then tucked his fingers into the curls behind her ears and tilted her resisting head back a bit. “Tell me this. Surely you’ve had men push their fingers into you, play with your nipples, suck on them, tease you.” Her pupils widened instantly and he wanted to take her mouth and taste everything he saw there. He swallowed against the need. “But can you honestly tell me it excites you more when you demand your lover do those things to you, than when I made you let me do them to you? When I took away your ability to choose what happened and when?”

  He felt her tremble, and damn if the power of it didn’t surge straight to his cock. “What the hell is it you do to me, Liza?” he whispered roughly. “You’re strong. Capable. Independent. All the things I prefer in a woman.” He pinned her to the table, pushed the achingly rigid length of him right between her thighs. “So why does making you tremble excite me like I’ve never been excited before?”

  He pushed both hands into her hair, gripped her head. “Maybe I am the one with control issues, because I’ve honestly never felt the need to be in control until you. Maybe this isn’t about just you, but both of us.” He lowered his mouth. “So tell me, do you want to go upstairs and have it out and walk away with nothing new to look back on?” He brushed her lips with his and they both shuddered. “Or do you want to climb back up on this table and let me finish this new adventure we both started?”

  9

  DYLAN TOOK HER MOUTH with his, robbing her of the chance to answer. Thank God. Because she had no idea what to do with this man, this virtual stranger, who challenged her, intrigued her and damn well bewitched her.

  One hell of a pit stop you decided to make, Liza, she thought as the rest of her was sucked back into the sensual vortex he’d created almost from the moment he’d looked down from that tree.

  The shrill ring of the phone barely penetrated the thick fog of carnality she imagined almost visibly swirled around them. On the third ring she began to pull away, but Dylan gripped the back of her head, taking what he wanted, refusing—as usual—to let her call the shots. “Machine’ll get it,” he murmured against her lips, before slipping his tongue back between them.

  But what Liza hadn’t been able to do in person for the past couple of hours, Avis Jackson managed to do over an answering machine. And it only took one sentence.

  “There’s been a fire at the Mims Motel.”

  Dylan jerked his head up as if he’d been struck with burning cinders himself.

  Avis continued, “Tucker says he has it under control, said not to bother you, but I knew you’d want to hear of it.” There was a pause, then she added, “Hi, Liza. Sorry to intrude.”

  By the time the click of the phone snapped through the room, the fog had completely dissipated.

  “Shit.” Dylan settled her against the island counter, then hiked his jeans up and refastened them, his mind clearly no longer on seduction.

  For her part, Liza merely folded her arms. “You don’t trust your own fire marshal?”

  “It’s not that. Although Tucker knows protocol is to contact the sheriff anytime something like this happens.”

  “Which is how often in Canyon Springs?”

  He tucked in his shirt. “Often enough. I know it looks like a
small town, and compared to where you’re from, it is. But it’s bigger than it seems. The main part is in the valley, but there’s a lot of sprawl—homes and places tucked all over the hills.”

  “Is this motel in a remote place?”

  He shook his head. “Just on the outskirts of town.”

  “So, and I’m guessing here,” she said dryly, as he finished tucking in his shirt. “You need to call it a night and head to the scene?”

  He was tucking the handcuffs in the back of his waistband, but stopped and sighed. “I’m sorry.” He tugged her wrists loose and pulled her close.

  She resisted, but more out of form than because she really wanted to. “I’m not used to being so easily dismissed,” she said, allowing him to weave her arms around his waist. That got a smile out of him, but she noted it didn’t reach his eyes. “You take this small-town sheriffing thing really seriously.” But then, she already knew that based on their dinner conversation earlier. She just hadn’t wanted that reality to intrude on the nice fantasy scenario they were busily enacting in his mountain getaway.

  So, a pit stop, after all, she thought, and sighed, feeling disappointed. More than she wanted to admit.

  “This isn’t just about a motel fire, Liza.” He tipped her chin up, looked at her in that penetrating way he had. All the dark edges were prominent now, glowing from those vice-cop eyes of his.

  Oddly enough, that made her wetter than anything that had happened between them so far. Which was really saying something. She wondered what it would have been like to bring the dark and edgy out in him this strongly when she was still handcuffed on the table. Her thighs clenched at the thought. Hard.

  Dear Lord, she really was learning a few things about herself.

  He was such an intriguing combination of things, so many layers. She’d love to peel some of them away and find out what was beneath. A shame it had to end now.

  “I know this is asking a lot of you,” he said, pulling her thoughts back to the here and now. “But I’d like it if you’d stay here.”

  Her eyes widened, more from surprise at the offer than any insult. “I’ve already waited for you once today.”

  His lips curved, but again the smile didn’t penetrate those eyes. “And I believe that was working out nicely.”

  She smiled in return, though she was far more interested in what had brought that edge back than she was in any continued sexual banter. That realization shocked her so much she pulled away from him. She was only supposed to be interested in him for one thing. But she was finding that close to impossible the more time she spent with him.

  She ran her hand through her hair and looked for her sweater. “Yes. Yes, I guess it was. But easy come, easy go, right?” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Emphasis on the come part,” she added, unable to pull off a sassy wink that would have sealed her casual, breezy exit. “I’ll just see myself out.”

  He stopped her with a hand on her arm. His grip was like iron. Not painful, but completely unlike the firm, but gentle grip he’d had on her all night. She looked up at him, a silent question on her lifted brow.

  “I’m not asking you to wait around for us to finish what we started, though I won’t lie to you and say I don’t want that. More than you can imagine. But this situation in town…there’s more to it than you know. I need you to stay here until I check a few things out, make sure it’s safe for you to go.”

  “Safe? I thought you said the fire was on the other side of town?”

  “It is.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve talked about trust all night and I realize now how laughable that was since, despite where we were moments ago, we really don’t know that much about one another.”

  “I’d say we know a tad more than most new acquaintances.” She’d meant it jokingly, but even as she said it, she saw that flicker of agreement in his eyes and knew they both understood it went deeper than sexual intimacy. Unexplainable really, considering, but true nonetheless. There was a connection here that defied conventional reason. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit she wanted to leave so she wouldn’t have to face what came next. She could handle the sexual aspects of what they’d been about to do… Okay, so maybe even that was being pushed into a risky zone she’d never entered before.

  She tugged her arm free and turned away from him, suddenly far more confused than she’d realized. There were too many things roiling around in her brain, and she found it impossible to sort them all out and analyze with him standing there.

  “Listen, you need to get to town,” she said quickly. “It’s really too late for me to be setting out on the road, anyway. Why don’t I just go find a room for the night? If you want, we can meet for breakfast somewhere. Say whatever we need to say to one another, if you still feel the need, then I’ll be moving on.”

  “Liza—”

  “It’s the best I can offer you. So unless you plan on handcuffing me to the table here until you get back, I’d suggest you recommend a hotel before I change my mind.”

  Mercifully, he didn’t opt for the handcuffs, though she suspected he thought about it. So, as it happened, did she. Apparently he realized he’d pushed her as far as he was going to for one night. She was pretty sure she was happy about that. It was that sliver of indecisiveness that propelled her toward the door, before he came up with an alternate plan and she lost what little control she’d managed to snatch.

  “Fine. You can follow me into town. There’s a hotel near my offices. I’ll get you checked in, then—”

  “I can check myself in. Just point me in the right direction.” She opened the door to the deck. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” She was gone, sliding the door shut behind her, before he could argue.

  She paused on the deck, took a deep breath, tried to calm herself with a look out over the valley. Even in the dark, it was stunning. All the stars, the winking lights of the town. She could understand why he loved it out here, supposed it was a balm after a long day at work. Maybe the balm was meant to soothe more than a day’s work—rather, the years of work that had led him back to this place.

  If any place could do all it, she thought, this one could. She’d always imagined she’d want her escape place to be on the shore, with the rhythmic sound of the waves, the salty tang in the air, the sound of wind chimes on the deck. She smiled as the chilly night breeze stirred her hair, and wondered what chimes would sound like up here in the mountains.

  She shook her head and pulled her sweater on. Since when had she been so fanciful? She was the pragmatic one, not the romantic. Never the romantic. Her one and only trip down that lane had been an embarrassing disaster. Mostly because she’d been mortified at being played for a fool. She couldn’t even fall in love right.

  She imagined Dylan upstairs in his room, strapping on God only knew what kind of arsenal, probably standing by the bed she could have had him on at some point tonight.

  Did she still want to get him there? Did she want to hang around in Canyon Springs until he had the time for her? Liza wasn’t used to waiting around on men. But if she drove out of town tomorrow morning…would she always regret not finding out what could have been?

  She snorted and headed down the spiral stairs. “Great sex with a guy who pushes buttons I didn’t even know I had. What’s to miss?” She could have great sex anytime. Okay, so maybe not whatever kind of sexual experience the two of them had been embarking on, but those were buttons perhaps better left unpushed, anyway. Besides, she really didn’t need to get sidetracked here. One night was fun; two nights were almost like the beginning of something. Beyond that, things got…complicated. She was trying to uncomplicate her life.

  Dylan came down the steps behind her. “Listen, Liza, about tonight—”

  She turned to him, pasted a smile on her face. “Dylan, it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I realize you have a job to do and that’s okay. I’ll follow you to town.” She opened her car door.

  “You promised me breakfast.”

  �
�I’m not going to skip town before sunrise, if that’s your worry,” she said dryly. “I told you. I don’t leave till I’m done with something.”

  He stepped closer, tugged her around and into his arms before she knew what was what. “That’s just it. I want to know if you’re done with me yet.” His kiss took her right back to where they were before the phone call. Amazing, really. When he lifted his head, she tried to tell herself it was the thin mountain air that had her head spinning. But she knew differently.

  “I’m…Dylan, I—” She should just thank him for an interesting evening and wish him a happy hometown life. Something Liza had never had and could never hope to find. Was a bit shocked to even think she might want to. “It’s just that, maybe we—”

  “Should have an early breakfast up here,” he finished for her. “Alone. With no tongues wagging.” He grinned. “Except ours, if we so decide.”

  She smiled, couldn’t help it. “I’m beginning to see why witnesses never stood a chance with you.”

  His smile faded. “Do I? Stand a chance?”

  She looked into those eyes and realized she’d never wanted so badly to say yes to anyone in her life. Save maybe her best friend, Natalie. That was terrifying enough right there, and reason enough to jump in her car and race away like a bat out of hell.

  “How is it you have no problem giving me orders one minute, then look at me with huge, gorgeous puppy-dog eyes and ask me something like that?”

  “Puppy-dog eyes?” He look honestly affronted, then surprised her with a fast, hard kiss. “Ordering you around is much easier when you’re handcuffed and naked.”

  She was still trying to get her equilibrium back from that kiss. “You’re getting entirely too good at that.”

  “Keeping you handcuffed and naked?”

  “Sneaking kisses.”

  “Oh that.” He grinned. “Yeah. I know.” He sneaked another one, this time soft and sweet. It took her breath away.

  “You confuse me,” she said, not meaning to say it out loud. Or maybe she did. Just to see what he did with it.