Driving Him Wild

by Zara Cox

  He laughed. ‘Training reduces the risk of injury. Working with people you trust and will have your back also helps.’

  Reminded of his question earlier, I asked, ‘So you have your own group of friends you work with?’

  His smile dimmed a little. ‘I wouldn’t call them friends exactly. They’re just a team I’ve worked with over the years. When we’re done, we go our separate ways until the next assignment brings us together.’

  ‘So who is your one true friend?’ I pressed, tossing his question back at him. His gaze swept down, and he feigned interest in the contents of his plate. After a moment he shrugged. ‘No one fits the label. Not any more.’

  The finality of his statement tugged something inside me. ‘Stephanie?’

  His eyes narrowed, displeasure bristling from him as he stared at me across the island. He opened his mouth, but I pre-empted his reply.

  ‘You can tell me to mind my own business if you want to. I’m just as curious as you were about me.’

  His lips pursed, the last bite forgotten as he set down his fork. When he shrugged, his shoulders were stiff. ‘We were lovers. But I thought we were friends too. I was wrong.’

  ‘Was she a Domme?’ I asked boldly.

  He gave a bitter laugh. ‘She went all out to fool me into thinking so, that’s for sure.’

  I gasped, unable to help my shock. ‘Why...how?’

  ‘Same way con artists fool people. She studied her craft, learned to imitate until she’d convinced herself she was an expert on the lifestyle. We met shortly before I went away on a three-month-long shoot. She made all the right moves, made me think she was what I wanted.’ His eyes captured mine, boldly spearing me. ‘But the truth always comes out, doesn’t it?’

  I wanted to snap back, punish him for daring to question me. But didn’t his experience reflect mine? How many times had I fooled myself into thinking I was in a committed relationship only to discover differently? ‘Yes, it does,’ I found myself replying, my voice nowhere near sharp or scolding.

  Understanding passed between us. Then memory etched harsh lines into his face. ‘Unfortunately, Stephanie’s little performance went beyond trying to fake her way into my bed.’

  I looked around the cabin. ‘So you came here to lick your wounds?’

  I was poking the bear. Regardless of his submissiveness, he wouldn’t appreciate his emotions being dissected, especially if the wounds were raw.

  ‘Once I accepted your assignment, this was the logical base to work from.’

  It was a half-truth. We both knew it. But when he stood and collected the plates, I let it go. In the space of twenty minutes we’d navigated landmine subjects with the power to blow us apart. I was all for taking a breather. Rising, I gathered the remaining dishes and joined him at the sink.

  We cleaned up in companionable silence, and in ten minutes we were done.

  I dried my hands as he headed for the freezer compartment of the fridge, pulled it open and peered inside. ‘What would you like for dessert? We have...ice cream, ice cream and...ice cream. But in different flavours, I’m pleased to report.’

  I grabbed the hem of my sweater and yanked it over my head. ‘I’m in the mood for something hot,’ I said, adding sultry notes to my voice.

  Slowly, he straightened. My gaze moved hungrily over his body, lingering longest at the cock rising to attention beneath my gaze.

  He slammed the freezer door shut, prowled towards me with a mouth-wateringly virile swagger that made me suck in a breath. ‘Your wish is my bidding, min elskerinde. You need only ask.’

  ‘Return to the fireplace and lie back down. I’m in the mood to sit on your face.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WE SAT ON the sofa, Graciela’s feet in my lap, my thumbs digging into the soft arch of her foot as she sipped a half-decent glass of Merlot.

  Turned out she wasn’t as snobbish about her wine as I’d insinuated.

  Outside the snowstorm powered on, showing no signs of abating. We’d been snowed in for two full days. The only time I’d ventured out was to feed and water the dogs, make sure they were warm. They weren’t exactly thrilled about being cooped up inside, but it couldn’t be helped.

  Despite it being well into the night, the wall-to-wall white-out cast a brightness over the landscape.

  Winter had well and truly arrived in Alaska and I couldn’t be happier.

  I watched her watch the fire, enjoyed the dancing flames reflected in her hazel eyes. I’d almost fucked this up with that conversation in the kitchen on the first afternoon.

  Since then we’d both avoided deep, personal issues, mutually choosing other forms of entertainment. Surprisingly, we’d found a few. Graciela loved hearing tales of my adventures. Her eyes lit up with almost childlike anticipation with each recounting. As much as I wanted to downplay it, having her hang on to my every word was a thrill I could get used to.

  Turned out my mistress had a not-so-secret hankering for danger. As for the sex, it was beyond fucking sublime. Graciela was unapologetically demanding while generous in return. She was extremely sensual, breathtakingly intuitive, knowing exactly what I needed when I needed it. Her demands were equally challenging, a spine-melting edge to her dominance that led to the most intense climaxes I’d ever experienced in my life.

  Besides the sex, touching her was my second favourite thing. In those moments between conversation, when the only sound between us was the quiet warmth of the cabin, the crackle of the fire, and the storm raging outside, my soul felt...right. My heart as close to contentment as I could manage.

  I hid a smile as she moaned—I’d hit a particularly tight muscle.

  ‘If I didn’t hate the idea of robbing the world of your unique talents, I’d seriously consider hiring you as my full-time masseur.’

  ‘I’m that good?’ I smiled.

  ‘You know you are,’ she murmured, a small smile curving her beautiful lips.

  My gaze dropped to the luscious curve of her lower lip reddened from wine and kisses, my blood heating up. She clocked the look and gave a wider, smug smile in return. Arching her beautiful body, currently clad in one of my white T-shirts, thong and nothing else, she leaned forward, ran her fingers down my jaw. ‘I’d love to shave you,’ she murmured, a definite savouring in her tone.

  The stubble I’d kept when I arrived at the cabin had grown into a short beard and, just like my hair, she loved to play with it. Now she wanted to shave it off?

  ‘I thought you liked the friction between your thighs?’

  ‘I do. But I like the idea of shaving you even more. I’d use one of those old-fashioned blades, take my time with you.’

  I stared at her, trying to work out which kink she had in store for me next. Much more than delayed gratification, she liked to keep me guessing. Not that I minded anything she’d done to me so far. Everything we did culminated in a wild and new experience. I was swiftly becoming addicted to it. To her.

  I glanced out of the window, sending out a silent plea for the storm not to end just yet. I needed a few more days of this. Hopefully by then, this wild fever in my blood would’ve abated. Enough for me to let her go with no hard feelings?

  My gut knotted, a hollow sensation taking up residence in the pit of my stomach.

  ‘Tell me another story,’ she softly commanded, relaxing against the cushions again and taking a sip of wine. ‘Tell me about your very first assignment.’

  I grimaced. ‘I’d rather tell you a different story, min elskerinde.’

  Her eyes sparkled, intelligence scheming in her eyes as she stared at me. ‘You know evasion merely triggers my curiosity, right?’

  Yes, I’d discovered that about her. But I didn’t want to delve into this particular subject.

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why don’t you want to tell me?’

  ‘Because my first assignment was p
rofessional and also deeply personal.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘And you can’t tell one without the other?’

  I shrugged. ‘I could, but it wouldn’t be much of a story.’

  She waited, one finger trailing along the rim of her glass.

  And against my better judgment, the words tumbled from my lips anyway. ‘I was hired by the owner of a sex club in Copenhagen to take shots for her revamped website.’

  Her smile turned a little wicked. ‘A different sort of adventure, then?’

  I didn’t return her smile. ‘An enlightening one, yes.’

  Slowly, her smile switched off, her face getting serious. ‘How personal?’

  ‘Helga, the owner of the club, became my first Dominant. She took one look at me and she knew.’

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Twenty-four.’

  Something close to envy flashed in her eyes. ‘How long did it last?’

  ‘Six months.’ I let out a wry smile. ‘Then she moved on to somebody else.’

  Sympathy shone in Graciela’s eyes. ‘She broke your heart?’

  I shook my head. ‘I thought so at the time, but in hindsight she was breaking down my barriers so I could accept myself.’

  Graciela nodded, understanding brimming in her eyes. ‘Why does that make you sad?’

  ‘Because even after all of that I was still searching.’

  ‘Searching or denying?’

  I shrugged, the memory painful to vocalise. It’d been both. After the nightmare of my father, and the need to take control and keep my mother and sister safe from his abuse, surrendering that control had felt like a betrayal. One I’d struggled with for years before accepting the freedom of submission.

  ‘So she was your first. Who was your second?’ she asked after swallowing a mouthful of wine.

  Shit, it looked as if we were doing this after all. ‘No one memorable.’

  One sleek eyebrow arched. ‘Your third? Fourth or fifth?’

  ‘All imitations of the real thing that have disappointed more than satisfied. Till...recently.’

  She gave a soft gasp. ‘Jensen...are you saying...?’

  Fuck, I didn’t want things to slip into hot and heavy territory, didn’t want this perfect flow we’d found to hit the skids. But she was looking at me, expectant. And I was helpless to deny her any damn thing.

  ‘You’re the first to make a meaningful impression since Helga? The verdict is still out.’

  She looked a little...relieved, and my stomach churned.

  Damn, maybe I’d laid it on too thick?

  Dial it back a notch, Jensen.

  She held the glass against her lips, eyes spearing into me. ‘Tell me about Stephanie.’

  Fuck no.

  ‘Graciela...’

  She reached out, laid her hand over my arm. ‘It’s not an order. I just really want to know.’

  I took a deep breath, wrapped one hand around her delicate foot. Then I lifted it, placing a kiss at the soft pad of flesh beneath her toes. She gave a soft gasp, her eyes darkening momentarily before she pulled herself out of my grasp. Great, that distracting technique wasn’t going to work either.

  I sighed, sifting through the torrent of memories I didn’t really want to relive. ‘We met at a party in London. She’s an event planner, but her clients tend to be more on the risqué side of entertaining.’

  ‘She throws sex parties?’

  ‘Not always, but yeah, some of the time. She said all the right things, made all the right moves. We went out a few times and then things got...serious.’

  ‘How serious?’

  ‘I asked her to move in with me.’

  She nodded, encouraged me to go on.

  ‘Then the cracks began to appear. It started off by her telling me she didn’t want to role play any more.’

  Graciela frowned. ‘Role play?’

  ‘That’s what she called it.’

  ‘She thought it was a game?’

  Bitterness drenched my mouth. ‘Apparently. She’d been biding her time, hoping I’d snap out of it. When I pushed her on it, she confessed she’d read a few books, watched videos and used what she’d seen at her parties to expand her knowledge.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Graciela muttered under her breath. ‘Where the hell did she do her research? The fucking children’s library? Because the first real Dom or sub she met would’ve told her this isn’t a damned game! That you don’t simply play at it.’

  ‘She was convinced she could make me happy. As long as we had regular sex like a normal couple and only did the Dom/sub thing on occasion.’

  ‘My God. I kinda want to do...bodily harm,’ she bit out, her breath hissing before she regained control. I was touched by that reaction. Ashamed to admit that I’d been looking for those signs of outrage, signs that she understood that this was as vital and necessary to me as breathing. Seeing her reaction only made me want her more.

  ‘You trusted her?’ she asked, her tone gentle with sympathy. ‘Enough to surrender yourself to her? You must’ve or you wouldn’t be...’ She stopped and I was grudgingly grateful she didn’t spell out what a fool I’d been taken for.

  Still, bitterness flayed me, gouging deep at the soul-searing betrayal. ‘Like I said, she walked the walk, convincingly enough to believe she had enough to achieve her ultimate goal.’

  Graciela frowned. ‘Which was what?’

  I paused, unwilling to admit that last piece of Stephanie’s deplorable intentions for the simple fact that I’d never seen it coming. But...what the hell? ‘She ingratiated herself into the lifestyle merely to land herself a meal ticket either through a husband with a fat wallet or blackmail.’

  Graciela jerked upright. ‘She blackmailed you?’

  My nod felt jerky, my emotions ragged and raw. ‘Her next move after I threw her out was an email threatening to expose our sex life unless I paid her a million pounds.’

  ‘I... Why would she—?’

  My smile was crooked...off. ‘She believed I would be too ashamed. Real men didn’t submit. Her words.’

  Graciela’s jaw tightened. ‘Now I definitely want to do harm. What did you do?’

  ‘I called her bluff.’

  Fire lit in my mistress’s eyes. ‘That’s...ballsy.’

  I basked in her quiet admiration, meeting her gaze, mine unwavering. ‘I’m not ashamed of who I am. I may have taken a while to embrace that part of myself, but once I did, I was all in. Am all in.’

  ‘I understand that, but there’s a difference between moving on and having your business displayed all over the streets. Especially a man in your position. That’s what she was counting on, right?’

  ‘Yes. Her business was doing okay, but she had far loftier aspirations. She craved prestige, and she was willing to do anything to achieve it. Unfortunately for her, she thought threatening to expose me to my family would be the way to go. She was wrong.’

  My mention of family drew a watchful look. ‘So your family knows?’

  I shrugged, unwilling to admit the undercurrent of tension between my mother and I meant that while I’d protect her to my last breath, inhabiting the same room for a long period of time was a strain. One I avoided until it became unavoidable. Like at Christmas. I pushed the looming visit from my mind and answered. ‘We haven’t had an open conversation about it, no.’

  ‘You think they’ll be okay with it?’ she asked, a touch apprehensive as she awaited my answer.

  ‘I am what I am and that’s not changing. They’ll have to be.’

  ‘Even your father?’

  ‘Stepfather,’ I gritted out. ‘My father is no longer in the picture. Hasn’t been for years.’

  Questions blazed in her eyes, but she didn’t press me for answers.

  Which was redundant because I confessed anywa
y. ‘He was a deplorable human being.’

  Her eyes softened in sympathy. ‘I know a thing or two about deplorable human beings.’

  ‘Yeah?’ I encouraged.

  She remained silent for several seconds and then she shrugged. ‘My parents. They were probably as deplorable as your father.’

  Despite the warmth in the cabin, icy fingers danced down my spine as memory pounded like a tide against rocks, battering my need to keep them on a tight leash.

  ‘I really hope not.’ Just the thought of Graciela being subjected to what my sister and I had gone through made my insides ice over with cold fury. ‘Did your father batter your mother every damned chance he got for no fucking reason? Did your mother make excuses for his behaviour, lie about the true extent of the abuse, even though it was plain to see?’ I didn’t blame my mother for her inability to end the cycle of abuse before I took matters into my own hands, but it sure as fuck made trusting her an issue.

  Her mouth dropped open, eyes filling with raw pain. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not to my knowledge, anyway.’

  ‘Did he lay his hands on you or your brothers?’

  She paled. ‘He did that to you?’

  I nodded, memory scraping over wounds still raw despite the passing years. ‘Until I was tall and strong enough to stop him. But I didn’t know why then and I sure as hell don’t know why now. Some people are wired that way, I guess.’

  ‘Jesus, Jensen, I’m so sorry.’

  I laughed, the bitter sound grating my throat. ‘How the hell do you do that?’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Slide so easily beneath my skin?’

  She looked startled for the moment and then she shifted her gaze to the wine glass, examining its contents before she took a sip. ‘It’s a unique talent not everyone appreciates.’

  ‘By everyone you mean...?’

  She lifted her gaze. ‘It’s got me into more trouble than it’s worth.’

  ‘What kind?’

  Her nostrils flared, more with pain than the discomfort of laying her secrets bare. ‘I drove a wedge between myself and my brothers, for one.’

  ‘How?’