Chapter Seven
She was a coward.
An utter and complete, dress her up like a chicken, yellow–belly.
It had been several months since the shit–storm that was her uncle had exploded.
The first and only magazine showing the pictures had pulled the issue before that first day was done.
They’d agreed to testify against Chuck when they understood the true magnitude of what they had done.
Her uncle had been arrested, his equipment seized from his house. His wife was being brought up on accessory charges, since she’d been caught on another of the cameras being his lookout.
Fame had weathered the storm remarkably well. A lot of the famous people she normally worked with had shown her an outpouring of support, knowing fully well what she was going through.
She’s spoken with Edgar a few times about things with the case, and she knew he was just checking on her. Same for Javier, whom she wasn’t as close to, but still held a special place inside her for what they shared.
Radigan had called a couple times, but she kept it brief, making it clear they should keep a rather sizeable chunk of distance between them. It had taken her weeks to put her shields back up because she couldn’t get him out of her head, nor her heart.
She dreamed of him often. Several nights a week when things were bad.
So tonight, all the way across the country in New York City, when she saw him she assumed she was asleep.
It was Tony time, so of course Fame was expected to be there. Acacia didn’t think she’d run into him. The city was huge.
Huge!
But there he was, on the sidewalk, walking past her. His gorgeous face made her want to sink to her knees but she could do nothing but stare.
He didn’t see her, and she stood there, frozen, yearning for him as he moved past her and kept going. So close, yet so very far from reach.
Only thing that pulled her back to the here and now, convincing her she wasn’t dreaming was almost getting run over by a hot dog vendor.
The food vendor yelled at her in what she thought was three different languages. Thankfully none of them were English, so she never understood what he said.
When she’d looked up, Radigan had stopped, turning toward her, as if in slow motion. He took a step closer with the lights of the city illuminating him from every angle.
He could have been an archangel. Sent from heaven just to tempt her.
So what did she do?
She bolted, in high heels, carrying a Michael Kors bag, and she weaved in and out of people until she lost him.
Catching a cab back to her hotel had been the best decision she’d ever made.
Probably.
He’d still been looking for her, scanning the crowd, when they drove past him on the street.
She thought she’d remembered how good he looked.
Her memory apparently was for shit, because he was so gorgeous her heart stuttered in her chest.
No one had ever made that happen. Never before him. Certainly not after.
She’d watched him for as long as she could out the cab window. Her neck hurt when she finally faced forward again. The cabbie had even had to ask her where she needed to go.
She’d closed her eyes, trying to remember.
That night, she lay in the same pretty room at the Warwick hotel.
The same hotel they’d been together in the first time.
Same bed, actually.
A flare for the dramatic was her father’s doing and she tried to smile, but she was so lonely.
It was dark in the room, a bit of light coming in the windows, and the occasional stampede of what sounded like giggly girls going past to break up the silence.
She’d lain there for a while, wondering if she made a mistake by running.
Duh, rang in her head.
She buried her face below the pillow, clamping it over her head, over her ears–that’s how she decided to stay until morning, when she was going to be on her way back home. She had other staff members that could accomplish what the magazine needed.
Staying was dangerous.
It made her want things she’d already decided she couldn’t have.
A pounding started in her head and she groaned. Headaches had plagued her for the last few nights. The last thing she needed was another one.
It happened again, but almost violently.
She moved her head out from beneath the pillow, running her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face.
That’s when she realized–it wasn’t her head hurting.
Someone banged on the door.
Sounded like they had a battering ram with them.
“Jesus. I’m coming.” At her acknowledgment the pounding finally stopped, and she scrambled out of bed. She thought to grab a robe from the bathroom but the pounding started again so she ran to the door.
“Seriously. It’s 1:30 in the morning. The hotel better be on fire…”
She yanked it open, wearing nothing more than a silk nightgown, and there he stood. The man she wanted more than anything.
He had a baseball cap on, and a hoodie pulled up over it.
“Radigan? What–”
He glanced to the side, down the hall, then pushed her back inside the room.
He grumbled out an apology, barged right on in, slamming the door behind himself with nothing even close to a hello. He locked it and slumped against the wall across from her in the short hallway.
She opened her mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his meet–n–greet and that’s when she heard it.
The same stampeding footsteps she’d heard earlier, with giggles.
They went past the door as soon as she peered out the peephole. A group of women, some teenagers, she thought, but most a bit older.
“I know he went down here, keep looking.”
“Fans?” she whispered, not really certain why she was keeping her voice down but it seemed apropos in light of the current circumstances.
Staring back at him was a bad idea. His gaze started at her feet and worked its way up to her face.
“You had to pick the one hotel in the city hosting a cheerleader convention. Really?”
“It held–uhh–other sentimental value.”
He pushed off the hoodie, took his cap off and tossed it on the closest dresser.
She didn’t know how in the hell he’d found her, how he knew where she would be but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about any of it.
All she cared about was the tension building between them.
The moisture leaking from her core, her tight nipples ready for his mouth, his fingers. She fisted the bottom of her nightgown, wanting to keep it on, and needing to rip it off.
“Sir?” It was out of her mouth so quick she couldn’t stop it. It was a question, and a prayer.
“Come here, my little slut.”
As soon as she’d taken part of a step he met her in the middle, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her to him.
She went into his arms, where she’d longed to be for so many weeks without him.
His mouth was on her skin, on the flesh of her neck, the sensitive spot beneath her ear. His other hand on her waist, her hip, the curve of her ass as he ground her against him.
He kissed her mouth over and again until she couldn’t breathe without tasting him.
“I need you. I’ve needed you for months.” He spoke the words she ached to hear against her lips. “We need to talk. I know it. But I need you first. Don’t say no. Give me a chance.” He ripped her nightgown down the middle, tearing it from her body.
She clutched at the waist of his jeans and moaned, trying to hold onto something to keep her grounded.
Getting lost with him never sounded so perfect.
That suit she had to wear all the time?
The Acacia suit.
He shredded it right along with the thin silk he tossed somewhere across the room.
“Don’t
say no.” He stared down at her, still giving her time to tell him to stop, as if she could.
“I won’t, Sir. I can’t. I need you.”
His eyes closed for the briefest of seconds and everything between them settled.
The tension expanded all around them, encompassing the entire room, or the hotel, or the city.
It went on to infinity as he grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her knees, all the way down until her ass hit her heels.
“Hands behind your back. Don’t touch me unless I tell you to. Understand?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good girl.”
A whimper snuck out and emotion threatened her composure.
Two little words. Who knew two little words could put everything right?
He did.
He knew.
She stared at his hands as he tore off his hoodie and shirt, tossing them to the ground. He couldn’t have physically moved any quicker, but she still willed him to go faster.
He ripped the belt out of his belt loops and the first spark of fear lit inside her.
Instead of hitting her with it he looped it around her throat, threading the wide leather through the buckle. He pulled it tight and lifted her up until she perched on her knees before him.
“Take my cock out. Suck it. Get me harder and then I’m going to put you in front of the mirror over the desk and fuck you while you watch.”
Her hands shook as she reached for the button on his jeans.
The zipper snicked down and she shivered when the scent of him reached her.
He helped shove his jeans out of the way with his free hand and his cock sprang into her palm. She squeezed him, rolling her thumb over the head, which was already slick with the most delicious fluid she’d ever tasted.
She licked out with her tongue, flipping her gaze up to him at the last moment, and stared into his eyes as she got her first taste since their morning at her house.
A grunt shook his chest and she slid down onto him, taking as much of him as she could.
His delectable flavor invaded her mouth, spreading out to every cell inside her.
She bobbed on him no more than a handful of times and then he pulled her up by his makeshift collar.
He manhandled her down the hall and over to the dresser, grabbing her tit, squeezing it, pinching her nipple until she cried out.
“Mmm. There she is.”
Moisture slid along the lips of her pussy. She was so wet, so ready for him she couldn’t focus on anything else, even though she wanted to remember every detail.
He shoved her forward, her palms slapping the flat surface, which left a delicious sting behind.
He ran his fingers across her hip, digging his fingers into the pressure points in her groin until she moaned.
The steel in her spine let go and her ass rocked back against him.
Heat sizzled between them and she moaned like a bitch in heat.
His bitch in heat.
And that’s when she saw it.
The mirror.
She’d forgotten that was why he put her there.
The black leather of the collar stood out so stark against her light skin. Her lips were rosy from where he’d kissed her, where he’d bit her. His tanned skin sucked her in and he looked…beautiful behind her.
But his face. His eyes.
Fuck.
He tightened the grip on his belt and she arched her back, straining to go where he wanted her to be. Her pussy brushed his cock and he hissed out a breath.
Warmth spread through her torso and fell down, landing on the knot of her clit. She could resist no longer. “Please…”
He glanced down, probably seeing where she rode the underside of his cock. She couldn’t stay still, she needed him.
“Please what? I want to hear the words. Each. One. Of. Them.”
She’d never been particularly vocal during sex, and asking for what she wanted had always seemed counterproductive to the kind of man she wanted to be with.
But with him, it was different. He knew what she wanted, could read her body as if she were made of braille and he didn’t need to use his sight.
He spoke to her even when he didn’t make a sound.
“Please, fuck me. Please Sir. I need you. Inside me. All around me.” She closed her eyes, unable to face him.
He jerked on the belt and she lifted her lids with a jolt. “Eyes on me. The whole time. Don’t take them off of me. You hide, I stop. Got it?”
He punctuated his question with the tip of his cock burrowing through the tight muscles of her cunt. One. Long. Push. That was all it took. He invaded her body, taking what was his. What had been his for as long as she’d known him.
“Yours,” she whispered, not knowing where the confession came from.
“Mine.”
She didn’t have to explain things to him. Didn’t have to fill the silences just to feel connected.
The connection was already there, strong as steel and twice as permanent.
Then he started to move and her jaw went slack.
Her eyelids fluttered and he stilled.
She opened them again and stared. His pace picked up. He didn’t leisurely move in and out.
No.
He fucked her.
Raw and dirty.
As if he was an animal reclaiming its mate.
He bottomed out, touching her deep inside and she bit her lip to keep quiet.
A yank on the belt and a slap to her upturned ass made her whimper.
Two more quick slaps had her panting and trying to dig her fingernails into the hard desk.
“I’ve wanted you for years.”
His husky admission broke her down in ways she didn’t think he could reach.
“But everyone kept telling me to leave you alone. For my sake or yours I don’t know.”
“Then why did you finally approach me? Why not listen to all of those people?” Her breath hitched in her throat and she tried to continue. “I could have been after you for something else.”
“I couldn’t stay away. No one else would do. No one compared to what I knew lurked below your business suits and fancy dresses.”
“What?” she asked, not really knowing if she wanted to know his answer.
“You. Just you.”
“Me?” She rolled her hips and helped him fuck her, unwilling to only take pleasure from him without giving him any in return. Sensation raced to her clit and she panted, not wanting it to be over yet. She clenched her jaw and tightened her pelvis.
“You. You’re all I’ve wanted. All I’ve needed. I want you at my feet. In my bed.”
“I. Want that. Too. Sir.”
He pulled out of her, pulled off the belt, yanked her up by the hair and tossed her onto the bed.
She eeped, bouncing on her back, and then he was on her, pushing into her liquid sex again.
His pubic bone dug into the knot at the top of her pussy, rubbing across it on each heavy stroke.
He leaned in close, the weight of his body pushing her into the mattress, and she wrapped her body around him.
“I didn’t want to love you.” She whispered it, giving him the truth along with her fear.
His smile of triumph warmed her to the pit of her soul, and he moved his arms so he could stroke her face. “And how did that work out for you?” He nipped her bottom lip and her pussy contracted on his shuttling cock.
She reached down and grabbed his ass, yanking on him, while she lifted her pelvis. “Not at all, Sir. Not at all.”
He grabbed the back of her neck and used her as leverage to fuck into her with the speed and precision of nothing she’d ever seen, much less been a part of.
Moans built on each thrust.
His and hers, reaching for something bigger than either of them by themselves could achieve.
He reached between their bodies and flicked her clit with his fingernail.
“Sir? Please, please, please…” Her voice trailed off, no longer
audible but her lips continued to move, mouthing the word she needed to say to gain permission to orgasm for him.
“Now–come.”
He trapped her clit as she started to come and rubbed it between his fingers, using her wetness as lube.
Her body twisted beneath him, jolting off the bed as far as his body would allow as she came.
Her core tightened so hard his rhythm stuttered for two strokes.
“Fuck. Juuuust fuuuuuck.”
He pulled out of her, fisted his cock, slick with her juices, and came all over her stomach and the top of her mound.
No condom.
He rubbed the head against her clit and she came again with the knowledge he wanted to own her so completely that he’d take the chance to take her like that.
Thick white jets of semen striped her skin. Each time he pumped his cock another ribbon of possession splashed on the flesh of her body.
His fingers brushed her clit, ramping her pleasure up to a level she didn’t know was possible.
He owned her orgasm.
He owned her.
Even without a collar around her neck. It was still there.
His eyes flashed up to hers and her heart skipped a beat, and another. And another.
Then without taking his focus from her he rubbed his seed into her skin, massaging it in without another word. She sucked in a breath as he ran his hand up her stomach, across her ribs and over the mound of one of her breasts.
He stopped on her throat, clutching it in his fist hard for a second. She tried to breathe and couldn’t. Awareness raced in her veins that he was dangerous. In the sexiest of ways.
“I liked the belt. But a collar and leash would work better. And I could be rougher with you knowing fully well I couldn’t choke you…unintentionally.”
He squeezed one more time and then loosened his grip.
She sucked in a breath and at some point she’d latched onto his wrist. Blood rushed in her ears, her head.
Fuck.
He was her kind of dirty.
He collapsed next to her, pulling her over beside him.
Lying there, her heart pumping against her ribs. The muscles in her chest jolting every few seconds. With her eyes closed she could feel him. His fingertips dragging along her spine. The blood rushed in her ears as if it were the white noise in a crowded conference hall.
Slowly…oh…so…slowly it faded into the sound of his heartbeat.
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 62