by M. S. Parker
“You’re helping,” he told himself.
And he wanted to believe that.
But even as he tore off down the road, he knew he lied.
Lacey stared at the glass in front of them, voyeuristic almost. If it was anybody but Lou, there was no way she’d be here. She would have walked out so fast, she might have broken an ankle.
But this was Lou.
And she needed to be distracted.
“Stop thinking about him,” Lou muttered as he slid the black leather cuffs around her wrists.
She shot him a look through her lashes. “Who says I’m thinking about anybody but you?”
“I know you.” Lou sighed, dipped his head and stroked his lips down the curve of her neck. “Ever think how much easier our life would have been if you would have just fallen madly in love with me?”
Lacey laughed, arched her neck over. “I did that…and it was wonderful. Until I realized that you and I are just a little too much alike and that you’ll never stop playing games.”
“No.” He gave her wrists another tug, checked to make sure the leather wasn’t biting into her flesh. “I’m all about playing games and you know it.”
“Yes.” She continued to stare at the reflective glass in front of them. Normally, her breath might have hitched at the sight. Lou knew how to set a scene—it was dark in there. Nothing but a chair and the lights and a single mattress. It had a gritty, almost dirty look to it, but it wasn’t. Lou was too fastidious for that. It screamed raw and rough, but if she knew anything about Lou—and she did—the bed would be comfortable, the sheets would be clean, as would the chair. “What’s with the glass?”
He shrugged, stroking a finger down the front of her chest.
Lacey shivered. Under his touch, her nipple puckered and stabbed against the lace of the bra.
Dipping his head, he closed his mouth around it and she groaned. “It’s going to be wet for your pictures.”
“I want you wet.” He reached under the hem of her skirt, cupping the heat of her in his hand, grinding the heel of his palm against her. He was rough and quick and the touch brought a cry to her lips. “They’re for me anyway. I want you turned-on, ready to fuck…”
Lacey gasped as he pushed a finger inside her.
“Ah…yes. You’re hot. Hot, wet, slick…that’s how I want you.” She was gasping by the time he lifted his head and she wouldn’t have minded if he decided to try the bed out.
But instead, he moved away and went to his bag. She watched as he checked his phone, punched something in.
Scowling, she tugged at the restraints on her wrists and then glanced around. The scuff of leather on wood had her looking back up and the sight of the strips dangling from his hand made her belly twist. Heat drenched her.
“You game?” he asked quietly, lifting the gag.
Gags didn’t always do it for her. Sometimes she wanted to scream. Sometimes she wanted to be the one asserting the dominance…and it was a fight to get Lou to let her. When he did, it made it that much fulfilling.
Today, though, she needed more. A lot more.
“I’m game for whatever the hell you want to do,” Lacey said, her voice raw and rough. And she’d never meant anything more.
“You sure you mean that?” He shot the phone one more look and then tossed it over to his stuff, where it landed squarely on the bag.
“Yes.”
A strange little smile tugged at his lips and he went to the door, flipped a series of locks. “Just in case,” he said. “Sometimes I let others use the studio but I don’t want my shots getting fucked up.”
Somehow, even as he said it, Lacey knew he wasn’t being straight up with her. But she was too focused on the ball gag he held, too focused on the distractions she knew he’d provide. So it didn’t matter. Wasn’t as if she hadn’t ever done shoots around others before.
Even in her tramp wear, it wouldn’t get to her.
He slipped the gag into place and she blinked, startled. It wasn’t the ball gag she was expecting—it had an open area in the middle, hollow. He stroked his thumb down her jawline, touched the bottom edge of the gag.
“We could have fun with this,” he murmured.
Heat gripped her but he didn’t do anything, just turned away and went to the cameras he’d already set up.
She stared at him. Are we going to have fun with this?
As though he’d read her mind, he grinned. “Don’t worry. I plan on having a lot of fun…in a few minutes.”
Brogan stared at the house.
This wasn’t where he’d found Lacey and Lou before.
It was an old house, well done, with a sign in front—Light & Shadow Photography. Below it in simple block font was Lou’s name. And there was his truck in the driveway.
On his phone, he had another photograph. Lacey. Seated in a simple, ladder-backed chair. Hands bound. An O-ring gag. And a look in her eyes that made his gut burn. Was it his imagination or did he see hunger there? Need? And that real light that came from those who needed this?
Jerking the key from the ignition, he climbed out of the car and started for the house.
When Lou stepped out from behind his camera, Lacey tugged at the cuffs and shot him another look. You ready to stop playing yet?
He smiled at her.
“You know me too well.” He came up to her and said, “Turn around. Over the damn chair.”
The harsh sound of his voice danced through her like heat and satin, rubbing against her skin, so soft and so sweet and so wonderful. She’d missed it. She’d needed this… Too bad this wasn’t exactly who she’d longed to play all these sorts of games with. Turning around, she braced her bound hands against the seat of the chair.
Then, a startled moan escaped her as he shoved the sorry excuse of her skirt up over her ass and spanked her. Hard. A series of stinging slaps left her reeling and she barely had time to catch her breath before he had unzipped his jeans, sheathed his cock in a rubber and was inside her.
But the surprise of the abrupt invasion, the deep thrust of his cock, his sudden, demanding possession were nothing compared to the shock she felt when he bent over her and whispered, “Look up, my little slut. Come on, Lacey…look up.”
She looked up.
The sight of Brogan standing at the thick pane of glass was a brutal shock—one that aroused her so viciously she climaxed the very second their gazes locked.
Shuddering from the intensity of it, her knees trembling, her pussy milking Lou’s cock, she stared at the man on the other side of the glass, his gray eyes all but black. So stunned and burning with heat, a heat that just about drowned out the shock. Just about…but not quite.
Lacey wished she didn’t have the gag in place. She might have yelled. Might have cried.
Lou stroked a hand down her spine, then up, fisted a hand in her hair, gently easing her body up—he did it slow, giving her a chance to resist if she wanted. Lacey glared at Brogan through the glass and twisted her hips, riding the ridge of Lou’s erection, wishing she’d taken control—if she’d known he was coming…
“He thinks you can’t take what he is,” Lou murmured in her ear. “Thinks that since you look so sweet and innocent, that’s what you are.”
She felt his hands moving behind her head. “Are you sweet and innocent?” he asked as the gag fell away.
“No.” She wiggled her jaw a little before letting her head rest on Lou’s shoulder. He cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples through the lace of her bra, and she didn’t need a mirror to know what sort of image they probably presented. “I’m about as sweet and innocent as he is…but you can’t tell him that.”
“Bend over again for me.”
Something struck the window. Lacey smiled as she stared at Brogan—he hit it again.
Then Lou was gone.
Instinctively, she clenched her thighs against the emptiness inside her and looked back over her shoulder. Shit. No wonder he’d been toying around with the damn camera…he’
d only brought the one, it looked like. Everything else in that damn bag had been toys. Toys of the sex variety and nothing else.
The silk whip hanging from his hand made her eyes widen.
There was another slam against the glass. She flinched and immediately wished she hadn’t. Swinging her head back around, she stared at Brogan.
The first light touch of the whip was almost a kiss. The brief slice of pain came a few seconds later. She barely had time to catch her breath before the next one landed, this time dancing so close to the crevice between the cheeks of her ass.
“What else are you up for, Lacey?” Lou asked, bringing the whip down again—harder this time.
She squeezed her eyes closed, gasping. Pain, sweet, wonderful, burned through her. It clenched inside her and almost sent her to knees.
He did it again. “You didn’t answer me.”
“Anything…” She opened her eyes, stared at Brogan through the window. “I can take anything. I want everything…”
And as Lou threw the whip aside and grabbed her hips, plunging inside her, she stared at Brogan. Wished it was him.
Lou used the whip as if he’d done it before.
Brogan wasn’t much for whips but he found himself staring, torn between wondering how her flesh would look and wanting to kill that bastard. But she loved it.
He could see the pleasure in her eyes and he watched her trembling, arching her back and lifting up.
Fuck.
“You want to come in here?” Lou asked.
Brogan wanted to go in there, all right. Go in. Beat him bloody. Rip him away from the woman Brogan loved…needed…
He glared at him.
“You can figure out the locks,” Lou muttered, his eyes downcast. The other man watched as he fucked Lacey. And Lacey watched Brogan.
Brogan watched the two of them. Yeah, he wanted to go in there. Go in there, then go to his knees in front of her. Kiss that pretty, swollen mouth, lick her lips and then jerk her against him…
Mine—
Just staring at her made him think that. Mine.
“The code is 5615.”
Brogan closed a hand into a fist. His knuckles screamed in protest—he’d already hit the window more than a few times but he didn’t care. He’d go in there…
“You come in here, though, you play by her rules.”
Through the tangle of her hair, Lacey stared at him.
And she whispered, “My rules.”
Chapter Six
Lacey stared in shock, dazed delight, in fear as Lou told Brogan the code.
“My rules.”
He won’t… He’ll come in and start a fight, or he’ll leave—
But he came in. Came to her.
Went to his knees in front of her.
Lacey swore, her fingers trembling as he cupped her face in his hands. “Your rules,” he muttered. “What are they?”
“You’re willing to play by my rules now?”
He slanted his mouth over her lips and kissed her—it was a punishing kiss, the kind of kiss she’d seen him give Grace, the kind of kiss he’d never bothered to give to her. She was too soft, too fun, too innocent…
She was all but dying with the pleasure as he kissed her.
“What are your rules?” he asked again.
She swayed under the rhythm of Lou’s thrusts, rhythmic and deep, her body burning, her heart aching…pounding. Something swelled inside her. Hunger, so wild and raw and fierce… Lifting up, she braced her back against Lou’s body and reached for Brogan.
With eyes that practically burned, Brogan came to her and she was pressed between them. “Do I get what I want?” she demanded, averting her face when he would have kissed her.
“Tell me what it is,” he snarled, capturing her face by the chin and jerking her back to face him. As his mouth crushed to hers, he said it again. “Tell me what you want.”
But when he went to draw her against him, she shoved him back. Brogan obliged, moving back a few steps, and she continued to watch him, her breath coming in rapid pants as she said, “Everything you can give me.”
Brogan started to reach for her but she shook her head. “No. Not yet. We’re playing this my way.”
She’d waited for this for too long to rush through it.
Her mind spun in dizzying circles as Lou settled on the mattress with her, Brogan still watching in taut, tense silence.
Lou hadn’t said much of anything over the past few minutes and she knew why.
He’d set this up for her and now he was letting her call the shots.
Considering how long she’d waited to get Brogan to realize she wasn’t made for sunshine and rainbows and slow, sweet sex, it was bizarre how nervous she was. The way he watched her wasn’t helping. Lou settled his hands on her shoulders and leaned in, stroking his hands down her arms, his thighs, bracketing hers as they sat on the edge of the bed. She could feel the heated pulse of his cock against her back, and her pussy clenched in response.
Licking her lips, she tried to lose herself to the moment, to the rush of sex and sensation that she’d known only minutes ago, before Brogan had arrived, but the bliss was gone. Her hands clenched into fists, the nerves trying to drown out everything else.
Lou leaned in, nuzzled her neck. The five o’clock shadow on his face scraped against her sensitive skin and she shivered. He rubbed his cheek against hers and then stroked his palms down the sides of her corset, eased her upright. His fingers brushed against her corset and he murmured, “You want to take this off?”
Her hands shook as she started to untie the laces, painfully aware of the fact that Brogan still watched. She shot him a look from under her lashes, and that alone sent a jolt of pleasure—and apprehension—hurtling through her.
The nerves would swallow her whole.
Lou placed his hands on her thighs, his thumbs stroking over her skin, and then stroked up and back, nudging her hands aside as he took over dealing with the corset.
“How bad do you want to be today, Lace?” he asked, his lips brushing her earlobe as he finished with the laces and then tugged off the corset.
Cool air kissed her breasts, tightening her nipples.
“Hey, you said it was my rules.” She didn’t smile, though.
Lou slid one hand down the midline of her body, reached the hem of her nonexistent skirt. Against her ear, he whispered, “Relax.”
Then he raked his teeth along her neck—any time he did that, she also arched her neck, sighed…
This time, she sat there, her body all but frozen.
Nervous. She was too fucking nervous.
This was going to tank if he didn’t get her to relax, Lou realized. If it went south, she wasn’t going to work up the courage to convince Brogan that he was seeing her wrong. And that would just break her.
Brogan, the idiot, was just standing there. What the hell was he doing? Waiting for an invitation?
Damn it, I gotta do everything, Lou thought. He gripped Lacey’s waist. So narrow and slim—he doubted she weighed anything more than she’d weighed in college, probably less because when she was depressed, she didn’t eat. Turning her, Lou caught her with one arm around her neck and drew her in, pressed one hard kiss to her mouth. Her breath caught and for one brief moment, her body relaxed.
“Your rules,” he muttered against her lips. “They aren’t working. We’ll do your game, but my way.”
With one arm bracing her body, the other on her ass, he carried her back to the chair. Behind him, Brogan muttered under his breath and Lou glanced back at him. “You here to fuck her or just grumble?”
He really wanted to hit that bastard.
Brogan curled one hand into a fist, fantasized about doing just that.
But then he stopped short. Watched as Lou put Lacey down. He murmured in her ear and she stared at him… There was a look in her eyes, one she’d never given Brogan before. And it was a punch in the gut to realize something. He’d never given her a reason to look at him
that way. It was a look of trust. Complete and utter trust.
It was a look that said, I know I’m safe with you. Not just physically, because Lacey knew that Brogan wouldn’t hurt her. Hell, he was starting to realize he’d been too careful with her. Physically.
But emotionally, he had been careless.
He hadn’t given her the things she had needed.
The things she’d wanted and he hadn’t let himself see…
She was still staring at Lou with that expression on her face as she went to her knees in front of him. The other man was wearing his shirt, open down the front. Jeans with the fly open, his dick exposed, the thin shield of the rubber still in place.
Brogan’s own cock jerked in painful, jealous misery as Lacey went to lean in, but Lou stopped her, his hand fisting in her hair. Seconds later, he was putting the gag back in place, that O-ring gag that stretched lips wide and held her mouth open.
She looked so fucking hot, and when Lou went to push his dick into her captive mouth, Brogan snarled in silent, jealous hunger. Tearing his trousers open, he closed his hand over his cock and pumped.
Lou shot him a look. “I’ve got condoms in my bag, you stupid fool. You going to deny yourself…and her?”
Lacey didn’t even look at him.
Her green eyes were locked on Lou. Damn it. He wanted her to focus on him that way…to feel him…
Swearing, he strode across the room and tore through the bag until he’d found the box of rubbers. Tucked in on the side. After he’d torn one off, he held it between his teeth as he fought with his shirt and kicked off his shoes. Lacey’s hair was fisted in Lou’s hand, the red-gold strands twisting in crazy little spirals. Brogan loved that hair…loved seeing it on his pillow, spilling out over his thighs…loved it…
Shit.
He ripped the condom open as he crossed the floor and knelt behind her.
She tensed as he touched her and Brogan thought his heart would crack. Bending over, he rested his head on her spine, felt the movement of her body. From under his lashes, Brogan saw that Lou had shifted his grip, both hands on her head now, urging her on so that he was fucking her mouth.