“You know, all you need is one of those little green hats and we can play some strip poker.”
He took the cigar out of his mouth and focused on her face. “Pick a card.”
“Card tricks? I want to talk about orgasms, and you’re doing card tricks?” Frustration swept through her. “You know, if you’re not interested in me just let me know. Maybe I misread the gift you sent, the books. Why did you have me put the key chain back on? I mean—”
He held up his hand, jerking the unlit cigar in her direction, and she stopped talking. “Pick. A. Card.”
“Why?”
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Why are you here? Did you come to apologize or to play?”
“Both.” The word came out of her mouth in a rush.
“Good. Your apology is not really necessary. I have very fond memories of the last time we were together, and watching you come far overshadows you calling me an ass. Now, pick a card.”
Clarissa let her fingers dangle over the cards, moving back and forth before she finally picked one out. She held it up for him to see.
“The ace of spades.” He leaned back. “You pick them well. I consider that a wild card.”
“Wild card? What does that mean?”
“It means I can assign the number.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he signaled to someone standing behind her. A man in a well-cut gray suit came up, nodding in Maddox’s direction before smiling at her.
“Clarissa, this is Andrew Lockhart, my second in command. Andrew, this is Clarissa Alexander, and before you ask, yes, she’s that Clarissa Alexander, bad little rich girl.”
“A pleasure.” Andrew’s green eyes twinkled as he looked at her.
Clarissa took his outstretched hand and tried to look innocent. “They’re all lies, you know. Everything you’ve read.”
“That’s too bad,” Andrew replied. “I rather liked the stolen moped story from Italy.”
Clarissa barked out a laugh. “Well, maybe that one is true.”
“I have a feeling they’re all true,” Maddox said with a playful shrug. He turned to Andrew. “Please have a bellhop take Ms. Alexander’s luggage and place it in the trunk of my car. Make sure to take all charges off her credit card.”
He turned to Clarissa. “You have a rental?”
“Yes.”
He watched her intently for a long minute, then turned to Andrew. “Have it returned to whichever agency it’s from.”
Clarissa opened her mouth to object, closing it when he tipped the cigar toward her.
“Yes, sir.” Andrew tipped an imaginary hat. “Ms. Alexander, we’ve enjoyed having you as a guest at the Moonglow. Please come back and see us anytime.”
“A guest for all of two hours,” Clarissa said as he walked away. “And I’d like to keep my car.”
“I have one you can use during the day.” He scooped up the cards and put them back in the case.
“A little measure of control,” she whispered, looking up to him for confirmation. When he just gave her a slight smile, she looked at her card. “Are you not worried that everyone will know we’re fucking?”
“We haven’t fucked. Yet.” He put the cigar back in his mouth.
“Do you ever smoke that thing?”
“One a week,” he said around it, chewing on the end.
“Why only one?”
“It’s a guilty pleasure,” he replied. “If I allowed myself to smoke more than that, it would become a habit. My discipline helps me to enjoy the one I allow myself.”
“I see. Does that mean you’ll only fuck me once a week?”
Amusement made the edges of his eyes crinkle. “No, you’re about to become my favorite habit. You’ll get my dick more than once a week.”
Pleasure shot up her body at his words. She rotated her hips, the coin resting in her pussy, rubbing her soft folds. “Then fuck me. Please.”
“Not yet.” He leaned forward, placed his hand on her knee, and slowly slid it under her dress. His thumb caressed the inside of her thigh, and he gently squeezed the soft flesh. “Don’t worry, you’ll get my dick. In your pussy, your mouth, and your ass, but all in good time. We have things to discuss first, and I have a meeting in twenty minutes. I won’t be done here until around seven. Why don’t you do some sightseeing? Or if you don’t want to do that, I keep a room here. Andrew will let you in.”
“Maybe that’s what I’ll do. I can go play with my pussy while you work.” She licked her lips, a little disconcerted when he didn’t respond as she’d hoped.
“No, that’s against the rules for the afternoon. You can sightsee or gamble or drink, eat, watch TV. You will not touch your pussy for pleasure until we see each other again. The same goes for your breasts or your ass. Do I make myself clear?”
Clarissa nodded. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and she whispered, “Yes.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir.” Pleasure swept through her again, and she wondered how she would make it through the afternoon without an orgasm. Her body felt as if it were on fire.
He stood and cupped the back of her head, caressing her neck through her hair. He kissed her forehead, then put his lips near her ear. “Meet me here at seven.”
Maddox took a few steps away, stopping when she called his name. “What’s the card for?” She held up the ace of spades.
“You’ll find out. And I think you’ll be very pleased with it.” He moved off, and she sat down, twirling the card between her fingers. When his voice sounded in her ear, she gasped. “Make sure you drink lots of water. It will be rather hot outside today, and I don’t want you to dehydrate before I can claim you properly.”
This time she turned to watch him walk out of the bar. It was hot outside? If someone took her temperature right now, it would probably read a hundred and two. She had a feeling by the end of the day it would shoot even higher.
Desert Surrender
Chapter Four
Maddox checked his watch, then glanced at the doorway to the bar. It was now ten after seven, and Clarissa wasn’t back. That didn’t surprise him too much. Once a person got on the strip it was easy to lose track of time while you were checking out the various casinos and other tourist sites.
He had no doubt in his mind that Clarissa wasn’t the type to live by the clock. She was going to have to learn about punctuality, though. If a person was two or three minutes late, that was one thing; five minutes was pushing it. Ten minutes was over the line, though.
A thought lingered in the back of his mind that she hadn’t taken well to their earlier meeting and had decided to bail on him. She was intrigued, obviously, by the idea of submission, but the actual physical and mental aspects of it might send her running. No, he corrected himself, not the physical part, but the mental part. If therewas one thing he knew from what he’d seen and read about her, Clarissa was a free spirit who refused to be caged in.
Of course he had no plans on caging her in. He loved her spirit and the challenges that would come from topping her. There was nothing worse, to him, than playing Dom to a sub who gave in to every little thing asked of her without putting any thought into the why of it, the outcome. He didn’t want someone he could lead around by the nose. He wanted a sub who was a challenge. And Clarissa was just that.
Another glance at his watch showed it was now sixteen minutes after seven. He would ping her on her cell phone, but he didn’t know the number. He thought for a minute that she might be in his room, resting. A call to the desk showed the room had been accessed once since he’d left it at eight this morning, and that was at ten by the housekeeping staff.
He hadn’t expected company today, but hearing her name from the desk clerk had made him sit up straighter and had sent blood rushing from all other parts of his body straight to his cock. He’d finished a few odds and ends to get ready for his meeting, then called the desk to see where she was. A quick check showed she’d left her room a half hour earlier. The cler
k had noticed the famous heiress going into the Rising, one of the many bars at the casino. Maddox had no doubt his employee hadn’t been the only one to notice the playgirl roaming around the hotel. He was sure the local media had been alerted and would be on the prowl to see if Clarissa raised any hell, which she inevitably did in the cities she visited.
This visit would be different, though. Once he had her ensconced in his house, he planned to keep her busy there. She wouldn’t have much time to raise hell.
Another glance at his watch. It was now seven twenty-five. He wasn’t used to waiting. Clarissa could use a little discipline in her life. He imagined her tied to the rack in his dungeon, aroused but unfulfilled, nipples hard, a weight hanging from her clit ring. She would beg to be touched, twisting as much as her bonds would allow, searching for his hands, his lips, his cock.
Please, Maddox, please, fuck me, make me yours.
“Damn it to hell.” He whispered the words as his cock pounded painfully under his pants. He needed to get himself under control before she arrived. If this afternoon’s meeting hadn’t been so important, he would have blown it off, taken her up to his room, and fucked her mouth before bending her over to ponder his choices: pussy or ass? He would inevitably choose the latter. He loved to fuck a woman up the ass, especially one with such generous hips.
He imagined her whimpers, her pleas for more as he slid in and out. Fuck! If he wasn’t careful, he’d come the second she touched him. If she ever got here, that is. It was another ten minutes before he saw her at the doorway, glancing around. Her face was flushed, as if she’d had just a little too much sun.
She saw him, and a smile crossed her face as she hurried across the room, her arms laden with several packages.
“Sorry. I lost track of time.”
“I noticed.” He gave her an indulgent smile. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“I did, as a matter of fact.” She slid onto the stool next to him. “Where else in the world can you go from Paris to Monte Carlo to Egypt in the span of a few hours?”
“Only Las Vegas.” He pulled out his phone, flipped it open. “Send a bellhop to me in the Rising.” When he’d flipped it shut, he took the packages and set them on the counter. “Thirsty?”
“Yes.”
“Monica, a butter baby for Ms. Alexander and a club soda for me, please.”
When the waitress was gone, he turned to Clarissa. “Do you not drink?” He could tell she was thinking back to their first meeting, trying to remember if he’d had a drink or not.
“Not at work, no. And never when I have to drive.” He held up a hand to signal the bellhop, then gathered her packages and handed them to the young man. “Put these in my car.”
He watched as she handed the man a five-dollar bill. “It doesn’t look like you bought out the city. I expected much more.”
“Only a few things. I like to shop.”
“So I’ve heard.” He handed her a drink and took a sip from his own. “What sort of clothes did you bring with you?”
She looked a little taken aback at his question, then shrugged. “Vacation-type clothes. Sundresses and things that I wouldn’t sweat to death in. Why?”
“We’re going to Laughlin this weekend, and there will be at least one formal dinner. You may need to shop tomorrow for something to wear.” The pleasure that bloomed across her face made him smile.
“Something like what I wore last weekend or something more conservative?”
“I rather like the dress from last weekend. Why don’t you send for it? Today’s Monday, and I’m sure it can be here by Wednesday. You can ask your friend Anna to send it.”
“I can do that. Will your friends be shocked by seeing my boobs and my tats?”
“On the contrary, both of them will be a pleasant diversion for many of the people there. Give us good dinner conversation.”
She fidgeted nervously. “I didn’t think about you having plans. I should have called. I can leave and come back when you’re not busy.”
Maddox leaned toward her. “I’m always busy. And if you think you’re doing a fuck and run, you’re nuts. You read the books, and that’s why you’re here. And you’re going to be here for a few weeks at the very least. Months would be better.”
Delight shone in her eyes, and he held out his hand. “You have the card?”
She reached into her purse, dug out the ace of spades, and flipped it around for him to see.
“Are you going to tell me what it means?”
“Later.” He downed his soda, then stood. “Let’s go home, shall we?”
* * * * *
Home. He made it sound like she went there with him every day, instead of this being the first time for her to ride beside him in a car as he traveled down the highway.
“Do you live in Vegas proper or one of the suburbs?”
“I live in Henderson, but don’t call it a suburb. It’s a town, nice and quiet with lots of golf courses. I like to golf. What about you?”
“Nope. Sorry.” She fiddled with her seat belt. “That’s one of those things my parents like to do. I judged it on that alone, I’m afraid.”
“You’re allowed to not like it. Having the same hobbies as her Dom is not a prerequisite for being a good sub.”
She murmured softly, then cleared her throat. “Speaking of which, what is expected of me?”
“We’ll get to that. Relax and enjoy the ride. It’s beautiful here.”
“I hate to be the one to break this to you, but we’re in the desert.” She looked out the window. “It was a hundred and three degrees today.”
“Yeah, but it’s a dry heat.” They both chuckled at the overused expression.
“It really is pretty, and it’s so different from New York where buildings are wall-to-wall. There are actually spaces in between these homes.”
“Yeah, I know.” There was a wistful tone to his voice that surprised her. “I can go back to New York every once in a while for a visit, but I could never live out there again.”
“Again?” She turned to him. “You have no New York accent.”
“We moved to Vegas when I was twelve, but I spent every summer in New York with my grandmother.”
“And who is she?”
“Jessica Tremont.”
“Oh my, she’s richer than God.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I’ve heard she’s been ill.”
He nodded. “That’s why I was in New York last weekend. She loves me, but I’m the bad seed, running a gambling establishment where hookers probably work, or so she thinks. She blames my father for how I turned out, because he moved us away from New York. She wants me to sell and move ‘back home,’ to take care of her. I tried to tell her I am home, and that she has my mother to take care of her. She wasn’t buying any of it.”
“Your mother would be Nadine Tremont then?”
“Yes. When she and my father divorced, she went back to being a Tremont.” He exited the highway and drove into a residential area. Palm trees lined the streets. She guessed the houses sitting far off the curbs went for a half million each, easily.
“I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together. And here I thought you might want me for my money.”
“Nope. I just want to play with your body.”
“You know how to make a girl feel all tingly inside.” She licked her lips. “If you want my body, how come you didn’t have me get naked on the drive over?”
He pulled into a driveway and hit a button on a remote built into the car’s roof. The garage door started to rise, and he turned to her. “Thought about it, but I don’t want to do anything that might get me sent to jail. I have a gaming license to protect, remember?”
“Oh.” She studied the stucco house in front of them. Two story, with dark wooden shutters flanking each window. The lawn was immaculate with yucca plants and some very colorful flowers in a garden that lined either side of the walkway to the front door. “You must pay your gardener a fortune.”
“Nope. I do it myself. Stress reliever.” He pulled the car into the garage and put it in park. He killed the engine, then turned to her. “Before we start, I want to give you a safe word. If, at any time, you want to stop what we’re doing, you say the safe word and I’ll stop. I’ve selected ‘spoiled’ for you.”
“Nice.” She laughed and shook her head. “Lets me know what you think of me right off the bat.”
“No, it’s a word that you wouldn’t normally use while having sex, yet it has been used in connection with you, so it will be easy to remember.”
“Okay, that makes sense.”
“I’m glad you think so. And speaking of naked, which we were earlier, take it off.”
“Here?”
“You’re going to have to learn not to question what I say. Yes, here.”
She glanced back at the open garage door. “What about the not doing things in public?”
“We’re not in public, we’re in my garage.” He studied her carefully, and she felt as if he already knew what she looked like without her clothes on. “Take it off.”
“What if a neighbor comes up? Or—”
“Now.” The dangerous look in his eyes made her pussy clench. She was already wet; she had been pretty much all afternoon from wearing the coin. She wiggled the dress up over her hips, then lifted it over her head, tossing it into the backseat.
“Delicious.” The look in his eyes had turned to full-blown lust. “Tip the seat back so you’re lying down.”
It took her a minute to find the button, and as the seat reclined under her, she moved with it, her body opening up for him to see. She felt her skin flush under his appraisal, and when she was lying down, he tugged on her belly button ring, then traced the tat of the flaming sun that ringed her belly button.
“Which one came first?”
“The tat.”
“I like it.” His hands moved up to her breasts, cupping first one and then the other, weighing them in his palms. “And the turtle on your shoulder, the one I saw last weekend?”
Desert Surrender Page 4