It was the bed that stopped her breath right in her chest. The wine-red comforter had been pulled back to the foot. Four scarves were secured to the bedposts and draped across the cream-colored sheets.
“Strip,” he ordered.
Lola gulped. What was that fantasy of his? To tie her to his bed for an entire weekend and have his wicked way with her. It wasn’t a whole weekend, but he had five hours.
Lola pulled her tank top over her head, then held it a moment, unsure what to do.
“Give me your clothes.”
She handed the tank over. He folded it and laid it on the bureau behind him. Then he flicked a finger. “The shorts.”
She stepped out of her sandals, then her shorts, and gave him those, too. He scooted the shoes aside and folded the shorts on top of her tank top.
“I like the thong.” He moved in close enough to take a deep breath. “You smell good.” He looked down. “Hot and wet.” Then he backed off. “The rest of it.”
Lola reached behind, unsnapped her bra, then slid her panties down her legs and gave both scraps of lingerie to him.
Being totally naked while he was fully dressed made her vulnerable, but the way his gaze traced her curves—what there was of them—heated her insides and turned her legs to jelly.
“Lola, Lola, Lola, the things you do to a man.” He raised his eyes to lock with hers. “You give me fantasies, Lola.”
“What fantasies?” she whispered. Dream of me, next year, the year after. Dare she say she’d changed her mind about relationships, about a man in her life? Could she actually say that Charlotte was right, and her whole relationship phobia was really just a way of rejecting him before he rejected her? She had so many excuses to keep men at bay. But the fact was, Gray Barnett was perfect. And he thought she was, too. It was the only thing she’d ever needed, a man who wanted her just the way she was.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Like what?”
“Like—” He didn’t finish the thought. “Facedown on the bed.”
She didn’t want to be facedown. She wanted to see everything. She wanted to see his face. Ask for what you want, Lola. “Face up,” she said softly.
“Then I can’t spank you.”
“So spank me,” she paused meaningfully, “before or after.”
He held her gaze, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Turn around.”
Lola did.
“Hands on the bed, ass in the air.”
She did that, too.
He smacked her hard, following up with a delicious caress between her legs. Lola bit her lip to trap the moan inside.
“Wet,” he whispered. “So damn sweet and wet.
Her whole body quivered. “Do it again,” she told him.
“Dirty, needy little bitch.” There was a crack in his voice.
Then his hand came down, again and again, until she was panting and on the very edge of climax, ready to tip over. “Take me now,” she ordered him. And honestly, there was so much more in that than just the words. She wanted more than six weeks. She wanted him to take everything she had to give, as terrifying as that was.
His fingers filled her. She’d wanted him, inside her, a part of her, but she couldn’t stop the tumble down into mindless orgasm. He touched her, moved her, pushed her, prodded her. When she surfaced, she was flat on the bed, spread-eagled, and tied down with scarves at her wrist and ankles. At his mercy. But at least she could see him.
“Now let me tell you how it’s going to work,” he said, soft menace lacing his words. He tugged off his shirt, revealing all that bare flesh with a dusting of dark hair across his pectorals.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, her mouth moving before she could think.
Gray was on her almost immediately, his hand between her legs, cupping her sex, then trailing moisture across her abdomen. “This,” he said, “is perfection. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you for the next five hours.” He grinned roguishly. “And when we’ve got more time, it’s going to last a whole weekend.”
She was hot from his touch, his words, the burning look in his eyes. She’d never had sex for five long hours in her life. She’d never had sex for a whole weekend. She’d never done it twice in one night. Until Gray.
Hands on his belt, he toed off his shoes, then he stripped down, pants, briefs, everything, until he was gloriously naked. And hard.
He’d used his mouth on her, his fingers, he’d been inside her, but she’d never seen him completely naked. He stole her breath.
She wanted this man. Everything about him, from his dirty, kinky mind to his beautiful body, his intelligence, his humor, his spankings. Every damn thing. She did not want to give him up because she was too afraid to have a relationship. He wasn’t the kind of man that would ever pick-pick-pick her to death.
Hands on his hips, he stood at the side of the bed, his cock jutting proudly. “Here are the rules.” He pinched her nipple. Lola arched off the bed, the pleasure greater than the pain, or maybe greater because of it.
“I will always want to do naughty things to you in the privacy of our bedroom.”
Our bedroom? Always?
“I will spank you.” He swatted her flank lightly. “I will tie you up.” He fit two fingers beneath the scarf binding her wrist. “I will blindfold you.” He covered her eyes with his hand. “And I will gag you.” He put his palm to her lips. Then he bent close, his breath on her cheek, the musky scent of pheromones tingeing the air. “And you will love it all, won’t you, Lola?”
It was a question. He required an answer. “God, yes.”
He backed off. “We will be wild and kinky”—he raised one brow—“when it’s appropriate.” Trailing a hand between her breasts, down her belly, to her mound, he stroked between her legs.
“Other times, we will pretend we’re vanilla like everyone else.” An evil smile curled his lips. “Like on the occasions when you meet my son.”
Lola gulped. “I’ve already met your son. I don’t think it was an auspicious beginning.”
He narrowed his eyes, his lashes dark. “You will meet him, and he will apologize for what he did to you.”
“You can force someone to apologize, but you can’t make them mean it.”
He climbed on the bed, straddled her waist, the hair on his legs soft against her sides, his balls warm on her skin, his cock between her breasts. “Don’t contradict me. He means it.”
“But—”
He swooped down, planting his lips on hers. Lola immediately opened to him, taking his tongue. Her mind whirled, and she no longer wanted to argue about his son.
“Rafe has had a change of heart where you’re concerned.” His breath against her mouth was minty and sweet.
“He doesn’t have to meet me. We can be secret again once the twins are back with my sister.” He wanted secrecy. She wanted him.
Gray crawled down her body, between her spread legs. She was open to him, unable to move. He licked her, and Lola moaned. She was a slave to the things he did to her.
“These are the rules,” he said, then dove on her again, licking, sucking, filling her with his fingers, taking her from zero to sixty in two seconds flat the way he always did. Then he backed off to ride her G-spot and murmured, “This particular rule is that we aren’t secret anymore.”
“Yes, Coach, God yes, please.” She writhed on the bed beneath him.
“I’m Coach in the privacy of our bedroom, but outside it, I’m Gray.”
“Yes, Gray.” She loved the mastery in Coach. But she loved his name on her lips, too. Gray. My Gray.
He played her with thumb and forefinger. “We’ll go out to dinner when we choose.”
She panted. He took it for total agreement.
“We’ll stay in and watch movies.”
She groaned low in her throat. He seemed to take that for complete agreement as well. “We’ll spend time with my son.”
She nodded. With his fingers in her
and his thumb circling her clitoris, she was in absolute accord with everything he wanted.
“You’ll attend company functions with me.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she cried out and came in a blinding, crashing wave of pleasure.
* * *
GRAY WAS INSIDE HER BEFORE SHE CAME DOWN OFF THE HIGH. Short-stroking gently, he kept her body on edge. The fit was excellent, tight, slick, hot.
He didn’t think she got what he was telling her. It didn’t matter. She was his. He had time to make sure she understood all the rules, that she was in his life and he was in hers.
He thrust deep. Lola’s body clenched around him, her arms and legs tugging at the restraints. There was heat in having her tied beneath him. But he missed her legs gripping his waist, pulling him in, and her arms holding him tight. They’d do that later. And later, he’d roll her to her stomach and have her that way as well. Every way. Any way.
“The rule is that you’re mine,” he whispered, filling, withdrawing, plunging again.
Lola tossed her head on the pillow. She couldn’t hear him.
“The rule is that we’re together.” He pumped faster, climbing closer to the edge himself. Beneath him Lola strained, then she arched up and sank her teeth into the skin between his shoulder and neck. A love bite, the way animals mated, the only way she could actually touch him, tied as she was. Not exactly pain, but far more than pleasure. He thrust deeper.
“The rule is”—he gasped—“I’m yours, too.”
Then he couldn’t think of another rule, he could only feel, taking her hard, relentlessly, pounding, roaring, exploding.
He lay on her, full weight, for five minutes. Her scent made him drunk, sexy and sweet and salty from the sweat of their workout. Her skin was soft and smooth and slippery.
Finally, after that fifth minute passed, he could form coherent thoughts again. Stretching, he pulled the scarves loose from her wrists, then her ankles. Rolling to his side, he took her with him, his cock still buried in her. Her pretty little clit beckoned. He circled and stroked, her body twitching.
Lola opened her eyes. The pupils were large, like she’d taken a drug, her irises nothing more than a lighter outer ring. He drew his finger up her belly to her breasts, circled one nipple, then the other. Until finally he licked his fingers clean.
“You taste so fucking good,” he whispered.
She never took her eyes off him, tracking each movement.
“I’m not letting you walk away like you have with all your other men when they started thinking about a future.”
Lola bit her lip.
“I’m not keeping our relationship secret so that my son won’t freak out.”
She blinked.
Gray cupped her cheek. “You need to work with me on this. Try. Don’t be afraid.”
Lola swallowed.
He gripped her chin and held her close to nuzzle the soft hair at her nape. “Don’t walk away this time.” And then he gave her the word that held his heart. “Please.”
* * *
LOLA LOVED HIS WEIGHT ON HER. HIS TOUCH ON HER CHEEK, HER chin. The light throb of him still inside her.
Please.
That word. His tone. As if he didn’t intend to rid himself of her when the football camp ended. As if he wanted . . . more. Not just sex, not just a weekend, but everything.
“I don’t want to walk away,” Lola confessed.
His body relaxed against hers, and she realized how tense he’d been. “Good.”
“But—”
“Shit,” he whispered. “I don’t like buts.”
“Your son.” She wondered if the boy was still just an excuse.
His breath sighed through the finer strands of her hair. “He’s a good kid. We talked. What happened is a lot about protecting his mom, taking care of her, making sure she doesn’t get hurt. But he understands what he did was wrong. He’s sorry. And he’s willing to try. That’s why he sent the text to the twins to meet him at the mall. He wanted to give us time to talk things through. I’m not saying it’s perfect. He and I have a long way to go, but—”
“Your son sent the twins a message?”
“Yeah. We spent the afternoon together. I told him you were here to stay—” He stopped abruptly. “If you want to.”
“I thought it was one of the rules that I couldn’t walk away.”
“The Coach tells. Gray asks.”
She reveled in his heat, the prickly hairs on his body, the softer ones, the hardness of his muscles.
Don’t fight, Lola. She wanted this. She wasn’t giving up anything to have it. Nothing except her fears. She hadn’t put herself out there since Mike left her. She’d guarded her emotions, walked away when a man got too close, rejecting him before she was rejected. But Gray was worth taking a chance on. No doubt about it.
She’d been thinking so long that Gray stepped into the silence. “I’m a package deal, Lola. It hasn’t been such a great package for you up to this point, but Rafe and I will work through this. None of that kind of crap will happen again.”
He rolled suddenly, taking her up and over, then settling her on top of him, her knees bent along his sides. As Lola braced her arms on either side of his head, her hair fell down around them. In the slight darkness of the curtain of her hair, he held her face in his hands.
“I’ve never felt like this about another woman. Love me back, Lola. That’s all I ask. And we can make it work. I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”
“You don’t need to grovel,” she said.
He grinned. “Whatever’s necessary.”
She went down flat on his chest, her lips almost on his. “I’ll love you back, Gray.”
“You will or you do?”
“I do.” She had from the moment he’d stood in the locker-room office and told her she’d have to take the twins’ punishment. Honestly, who wouldn’t love a man as bold, brash, handsome, kinky, and delectable as Coach Barnett?
His eyes gleaming darkly, he asked, “What time is it?”
Lola glanced at the red numbers on the bedside table. “Five-thirty.”
“Good. Four hours left.” He rolled once more, pinning her to the bed this time. “First you get a good hard paddling for making me wait so long to hear you say it.”
“Oh no, Coach.” Her heart beat wildly in her chest.
“Then I’m going to lay you facedown on the bed and take you with your eyes blindfolded. And then—”
She grabbed him by the ears and pulled his head down, fastening her lips on his, thrusting her tongue deep, kissing him long and sweet. Until he was hard again inside her.
Ooh yeah, the spanking was going to be oh so excellent.
28
“WE’RE GOING DOWN TO THE POOL.” HARRY STOOD IN HER OFFICE doorway, wearing baggy swim trunks, a towel slung over his shoulder.
She could hear William down the hall rattling things in the bathroom.
“Okay.” That was good, they’d be out. She had some prep work for the troubleshooting session. She’d already spent too much time this morning lying in bed dreaming about last night with Gray. The fantasies were too good to give up. Her bottom was still deliciously sore, her muscles delectably achy. And then there was her heart.
“You wanna go with us?”
Lola stared a moment. The little scar by his eye gave him a crafty look. He was up to something. Then Lola realized that she always assumed Harry was up to something. Sometimes he was; he’d certainly proven that. But maybe kids lived up to your expectations. And she was supposed to be giving him the benefit of the doubt.
“You don’t want some old lady at the pool with you,” she told him. “It would cramp your style.”
“You’re not some old lady, Aunt Lola.” His gaze on her was unwavering.
Lola swiveled in her chair to fully face him. She considered her next words and decided they needed asking. “Why did you scheme with the coach’s son last night?”
“Scheme?” He raised a brow. The scar al
most made it look like he was winking.
“Rafe texted you. Then you and William wanted to go out. All evening.”
He stubbed the toe of his rubber deck shoe into the carpet. “We just wanted to help you. After the stunt we pulled. It was only fair. And we like the coach.”
“You said he was a slave driver.”
“He is. Doesn’t mean we don’t like him.”
Last night had been more than she’d ever hoped for in the last ten years. The coach was more man than she could ever have dreamed up. “So going out was a gift, giving me time with the coach?”
“It was kind of like when Dad brings Mom chocolates after they’ve had a fight. Except that she throws them away when he’s not looking because she doesn’t want to get fat.”
“I don’t think I’m going to throw away the coach.” But she almost had.
“So do you want to go to the pool?” He actually seemed eager.
Since the day they’d arrived, she’d been figuring out ways to get rid of them. Maybe, just maybe, you reap what you sow, to use another of her mother’s old expressions. When she ignored them, they got bored. When she didn’t like them, they didn’t like her. Charlotte didn’t have the same problem with the twins. They’d had a great time eating pizza and watching Kick-Ass. Maybe Lola was simply reaping her own feelings about them. She mistrusted them, so they’d proved untrustworthy. Not that it excused what they’d done.
It could also be true that Harry was a victim of his own philosophy about illusion. He wanted something new and different and exciting. He wanted to feel special, too. She’d denied him all of that almost since the day he was born. Maybe the twins weren’t the only ones who needed to see things differently.
Lola tipped her head. “You know, I could use an hour at the pool.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d relaxed by the pool. “But I’ve got a meeting this afternoon while you guys are having your driving lesson. Why don’t you give me half an hour to get stuff ready for it, then I’ll come down.”
“Cool. We’ll save you a chair.” Then he dashed away, leaving the doorway empty. A moment later, there was a pounding like a herd of elephants, the front door slammed, the condo rocked as they raced down the outer stairs. Then everything fell silent.
The Naughty Corner Page 25