Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

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Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender Page 2

by Opal Carew


  “I hope you don’t think that I’m going to have sex with you, Mr. Danner. Because I’m not.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes glittering with amusement.

  “Yes. Of course, I’m sure. I’m here for poker.”

  “Okay, sex is off the table,” he said.

  At his words, thoughts of him bending her over the table and his big body moving close sent her senses reeling. She could just imagine his hard cock pressing into her opening.

  Oh, God, she’d gone too long without getting laid. This man was good-looking beyond belief, but she wasn’t going to throw herself at him.

  “Good,” she said, but she didn’t sound as definite as she’d like.

  He sat down across from her and opened a small metal case about the size of a lunch box sitting on the table. Inside were poker chips and two decks of cards.

  “How much money do you have?”

  “Um… two hundred.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Thousand?”

  She shook her head. “Just two hundred.”

  He chuckled, but gave her a stack of chips. She took the money from her purse and handed it to him and he tossed it into the case and closed it.

  She knew in the game downstairs that they never asked for the money up front. That’s why she knew she could get away with it.

  “I really would like a chance to talk to you. Could we arrange a time to do that?” she asked.

  “How about if you win, then we’ll talk tonight?”

  She glanced at her small pile of chips, and his much bigger one and frowned.

  “And how do I win.”

  He chuckled again. “I’ll let you know.”

  Her stomach clenched, but this was the only chance she had.

  He shuffled the cards, then dealt them out. She glanced at her hand. Two queens. She tried to avoid smiling, but her lips quirked. She glanced at him, but he hadn’t seemed to notice. He gazed at his cards, then placed them on the table face down.

  She asked for three cards and got another queen. He stayed.

  She pushed a couple of chips into the center.

  He matched her stack then, to her dismay, pushed in a much bigger stack.

  “You’ll have to go all in,” he pointed out.

  She eyed him. Was he just trying to intimidate her? Push in a huge amount of chips so she’d fold?

  She glanced at her cards again. She was feeling pretty confident.

  “Okay.” She pushed the rest of her chips into the center.

  Silently, he turned over his hand.

  Three aces.

  Oh, God, she was out. In just one hand, she’d lost all her money, and her chance to help Ella.

  He swept the chips to his side of the table. “I guess it’s time for the other stakes I told you about.”

  “And what would that be?” she asked cautiously.

  His gaze locked on her and glided down to her low cut neckline.

  “I like your dress.”

  She flushed, heat spreading through her at his appreciative gaze.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m suggesting you can wager the dress.”

  Her gaze shot to his. “I thought sex was off the table.”

  “It is.” He smiled. “It’s the dress I suggest go on the table.”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t why I came here.” She wasn’t about to be his Friday night fling.

  “You came here because you want a chance to talk to me. Then you lost all your money. I’m just giving you another chance.”

  She knew it was about control. He wanted to manipulate her. To see how far he could get her to go.

  It irked her, but he had something she wanted, and as long as that was true, he called the shots. Mr. Danner smiled. “And it’s not like I haven’t seen what you’ve got on under there on any public beach.”

  She frowned, but then finally nodded. She reached behind her back, feeling for the zipper tab.

  He smiled. “Want some help?”

  “No,” she said stonily. “I can manage.”

  She dragged the zipper down, feeling the cool air brush her back as the fabric parted. As she pulled the dress off her shoulders, she couldn’t believe she was doing this.

  She avoided looking at him as she slowly lowered the garment, pushing it over her hips and down her legs. Then she stepped out of it and held it out to him.

  The moment their gazes locked and she saw the heat in his eyes, her cheeks flamed. His already dark blue eyes had darkened to the deepest midnight blue. She realized her hand was shaking as she held the dress. His fingers wrapped around the slinky fabric, brushing hers as they did, and for a moment, time froze, his fingers against hers, and a sultry heat simmered between them.

  Then his hand drew away, the dress with it, leaving her close to naked, and feeling vulnerable in her lacy black bra cut low in front and her skimpy black thong. God, she didn’t want to turn around. He might know women who would wear a bikini this scanty on a public beach, but not her. She reserved this level of sexy for the bedroom.

  Or it seemed now, a high stakes poker game with a billionaire playboy.

  He placed the dress on the table and sat down. He didn’t leer, or even obviously peruse her body, which she had to admit was classy on his part.

  But her skin prickled with awareness of his closeness and masculinity. And she knew that even though he wasn’t being obvious, he was taking in every inch of her almost naked body.

  She had to face it, if the man offered to bed her to give her what she wanted, she’d probably drop her panties right now.

  She sat down as he dealt out the cards again and she picked up hers. Her hand was a mish mash… one king and the rest non-face cards. She kept the king and a ten, both spades, hoping for a flush, or at least another king.

  “How many cards?” he asked.

  “I’ll take three.”

  He dealt her the three cards and she peered at them. There was no king, but she did get a pair of twos and another ten. That was two pair.

  She schooled her features not to give anything away and glanced across the table at him.

  “I’ll hold,” he said.

  Usually, they would bet now, but the current wager was her dress against him allowing her to talk to him.

  “So I reveal now?” she asked.

  “You mean more than you already have?” His eyebrow arched as his gaze fell on her breasts.

  “I mean my cards.”

  “No, we’re not finished betting.”

  “I thought the dress…”

  “Allowed you into the hand, yes. But now I’m going to raise.”

  “But I don’t have any money. You expect me to fold?”

  He shrugged. “If you want. But I think you’re quite happy with your hand and would be willing to put more on the table, so to speak.”

  “I’m not taking off my bra,” she said, eyes flashing. His lips turned up on the sides in a grin. “Or anything else.”

  He nodded. “All right. Then I have a suggestion.”

  She pursed her lips as she took in his handsome face, his intelligent gaze considering her.

  “And what is that?”

  “If I win, you let me touch you.”

  “Touch me?” Thoughts of his big hands cupping her breasts. Gently squeezing, then his fingers finding her aching nipples and stroking, then pinching them between his fingertips, took her breath away.

  She’d like that. In fact, she’d like nothing more than to strip away her lingerie and lie back on the table to let him take her.

  Except to have that talk with him. And walk away with some shred of dignity.

  “We said no sex.”

  “I’m not talking sex. Just touching.”

  “Why would I let you do that?”

  “I’ll touch only bare skin. And let me make it more interesting.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  “If you win, then we talk, just as you wanted.”r />
  “That was already the deal.”

  “But what if I promise at least one counter proposal.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You want to talk to me. Which means you want something from me. I don’t know what it is, but the answer will likely be no.”

  Her heart compressed at the word but he was right. This whole thing was a long shot, but it was the only shot she had.

  “I’m suggesting that when you make whatever request you will be making, that I won’t just say no. I will try to find a counter proposal that will work for us.”

  She pursed her lips. She didn’t know what the counter proposal would be to putting her brother-in-law in jail. Maybe lowering the charges? Forgiving the debt? Maybe promising him a job once his sentence was done?

  She had no idea, but Mr. Danner being open to more than just saying no was definitely a good thing.

  Especially since she was sure he was bluffing. Or, at least, didn’t have a hand that could beat two pair.

  “All right.”

  He smiled, and at the predatory look in his eyes, she realized he was going to win. The blood drained from her face as he flipped over his cards… revealing a full house.

  Oh, God, she’d lost her opportunity to try and convince him to help Ella and her husband.

  “Come over here.” His silken voice curled through her and she stood up.

  Now he would touch her… probably cup her ass with his big hand. Maybe, if she seemed willing…who was she kidding, she was willing… to succumb to his touch, then maybe he would listen to her after all.

  Shock vaulted through her at her own illicit thoughts. She wasn’t going to sleep with him to help Ella.

  No, just strip down to practically nothing. Then let him touch her.

  Did she really know where her boundaries were?

  He watched as she walked around the long table, then approached him, his gaze locked on the swell of her breasts above the lace cups. Her nipples puckered at the thought of him stroking her there.

  He pushed his chair back from the table and turned sideways as she continued toward him. His intense male gaze sent heat shimmering through her.

  Finally, she stood facing him.

  “Let your hair down.”

  It had nothing to do with the deal they’d struck, but she reached behind her head and opened the clip, letting her long hair spill down over her shoulders.

  He lifted his hand, and as it approached her, she calmed her breathing, readying herself for his touch. It would only be a moment.

  But she wasn’t prepared for the spark of desire that flared through her when his fingertips brushed against her arm, just above her elbow. Then his fingers moved. Upward. Trailing lightly over her skin, then stroked her hair back over her shoulder. She drew in a slow breath as he glided downward again, over the soft exposed skin of her breast, right to the lace of her bra. His fingertip grazed lightly under the scalloped edges, but not breaching the barrier of the satin cup.

  Clearly, he liked to push boundaries.

  And she was close to pulling back that boundary, by tugging the cup forward and inviting him to explore further. The thought of his big fingers gliding over her hard nipple sent her pulse fluttering.

  Her own potent reaction to him startled her and she stepped back.

  “I… uh… we’re done now.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

  “You said a touch,” she stammered.

  “And you didn’t say how long. I’m not finished.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Come here,” he said, his authoritative tone brooking no argument.

  She stepped close again, shocking herself at her own submissiveness.

  “So I just have to stand here for as long as you want to touch me?”

  He gazed at her, his blue eyes twinkling. “Yes.”

  His fingers brushed her ribs this time, below her breast, then glided slowly downward, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. She tried to ignore the heady sensations fluttering through her.

  “But you could go on for hours.”

  He grinned. “Yes.”

  Oh, God, if he did this for even a few more minutes, she’d be a puddle on the ground.

  Tingles danced through her at his touch. Past her waist, around to her back. Blazing a trail of hot embers over the side of her butt. But he didn’t cup her like she thought he would.

  Like she wanted.

  Just swirled over her round butt, then back to her hip. His finger slipped under the thin strip of her thong, and followed it forward. Gliding along the fabric toward her belly. Then suddenly dipped under the triangle of fabric covering her intimate flesh.

  She gasped at the feel of his fingertip lightly brushing her hidden flesh.

  But he didn’t push down as far as her intimate folds. If he had, he would have felt the wetness there, proof of how much his touch was turning her on. And how much she wanted more from him.

  She stepped back. “That’s enough.”

  His gazed locked on hers and she fully expected him to protest. Would he command her to be still and allow him to continue? Because if he did, she knew in her heart she would comply.

  But that was absurd. It’s not like he had some hold over her. Like he could just command her and she would do whatever he said.

  What had a hold on her was her desire to please him. To see a glint of approval in his eyes.

  If he commanded her to strip totally naked right now, she’d do it in a heart beat.

  And it was that realization that made her turn and head toward the door. She had to leave. Now.

  “You’re not going out like that.” His question was more of a statement.

  Goose bumps danced over her nearly naked body. No, she couldn’t go out like this.

  “I’d offer you the hotel robe, but I’m sure the management would frown on your marching across the lobby and out the front door in it.”

  * * *

  Race watched as she twirled toward him, her long, dark hair swirling around her shoulders.

  Yes, it was so much better down.

  “May I have my dress back?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes blazed, and her labored breathing made her round breasts rise and fall delightfully. He would love to command her to take off that bra right now and reveal her full breasts, and hard, needy nipples. But he’d agreed to no sex and, God help him, if she dropped that bra, he wasn’t sure he could keep that promise.

  She sucked in deep breaths, her hands clenched in fists at her side, and as much as he loved watching her breasts heave up and down, he took pity on her.

  “I might be persuaded to loan it to you.”

  Her jaw clenched. “And what do I need to do to persuade you?”

  He was tempted to come up with something fun. He’d touched her, so maybe suggesting she touch him. Anywhere she wanted. That could prove interesting, since she was so clearly turned on by what they’d done so far.

  Even if she just touched the tip of his ear, or stroked over his shoulder, sparks would flare between them and…

  Fuck, his swelling cock was stealing the blood-flow from his brain. He intended to stick with his promise of no sex tonight. There was no point in making it harder.

  Making him harder.

  “Just agree to return it,” he said.

  The rebellious look in her lovely, sky-blue eyes faded. “Really?”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out one of the special poker chips. Not the black and red one she’d shown up with, but one of the all black ones with his logo in metallic gold. A token he gave to only a favored few.

  He held it out to her and, hesitantly, she stepped toward him again and took it.

  “Bring the dress back here tomorrow and show that to the concierge.”

  She gazed at it, then at him. “Thank you.”

  Whether or not she brought back the dress was unimportant. It had been all about the cha
llenge.

  He picked it up and handed it to her. She took it, then held it by the shoulders. The black fabric, shapeless without her beautiful body giving it form, hung from her hands. Her gaze flickered to his and she seemed to actually hope he’d turn around.

  He had to stifle a laugh. After seeing her practically naked, and even feeling the softness just below her panty line, she was actually embarrassed to have him watch her put the dress on.

  She compressed her lips, then lowered the dress and stepped into it.

  He watched as the slinky fabric glided up her long legs, then over her hips. She slid her hand into one short sleeve and drew it over her shoulder, then the other.

  “Here, I’ll zip you up.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He stepped behind her, ignoring her mild protest, and found the zipper tag, then glided it upward. Watching the opening of the dress close. And with it, his view of her lovely, creamy skin.

  As soon as it reached the top, she stepped away.

  She turned and stuck out her hand.

  “Thank you, Mr. Danner.”

  Was she kidding?

  He gazed at her hand, then enveloped it in his own.

  “Your welcome, Ms. Bell.”

  Then she hurried to the elevator. Once inside, she turned and stared at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty as the elevator doors closed.

  He chuckled. She’ll be back.

  * * *

  Jacquie walked into the hotel lobby, the dress neatly folded in a box she carried under her arm. Taped closed, so it wouldn’t accidentally come open in the hands of the hotel staff. She didn’t want anyone to know she’d shed her dress for Mr. Danner last night.

  Not that they would from her bringing him a dress today, but who knew? Maybe this was a regular occurrence with him.

  Embarrassment still tugged at her. How had she let herself get into that position? And it hadn’t even gotten her the opportunity to plead her brother-in-law’s case with him.

  She still couldn’t understand how Jon, who was an accountant at Danner Industries—or, at least, had been—could have been so careless. Letting his so-called friend use his laptop. The guy had found Jon’s security access codes and used them to transfer money from one of the business accounts. There was no way to prove it, and the theft was traced back to Jon’s account, so now Jon was up on charges.

 

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