by Roni Loren
That left her with a shiver as he got out of the car and walked around to her side to open the door. His steps seemed interminable, her heartbeat hopping at the sound of his shoes on the concrete floor. By the time he helped her out of the car, her lungs felt like they weren’t capable of expanding. He was so close. So intent. He cupped her chin, his gaze coasting over her face and then sliding lower, taking his time and not hiding his open perusal. Her nipples strained against her bra as his attention moved over them. “You ready to play a game, Marin?”
His tone was smooth, dangerously enticing, like a stranger holding the most delicious candy out to her. She could almost taste the sweetness on her tongue. She concentrated, forced her voice to work. “Yes.”
His lips ticked up at the corner ever so slightly, something new there in his eyes, a sinister eroticism that drew her in like a winding trail of breadcrumbs. This was the Donovan who’d made the tapes, the private side beneath all those other layers. “You have five minutes. You’re going to go in the house and find a good hiding place. You want it to be really good because for each minute it takes me to find you, that’s how many times you get to come tonight.”
All remaining air left her. Whoosh. Gone.
“But also for every minute I can’t find you, I’m going to add another item from your list to cover tonight. Items of my choosing.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “And there are some doozies on there.”
Oh, God. The list ran through her mind on fast-forward. Some were things she’d love to try, others she was half-terrified. And she had a feeling he wasn’t going to choose the simple ones.
“So you’ll have to decide if more pleasure is worth the risk of more boundaries pushed. And the longer it takes me to find you, the more frustrated I’m going to get. I’m not very nice when I’m frustrated, Rush.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers, sending hot chills radiating straight downward. “Understand the rules?”
Her tongue swiped over her lip, catching the taste of his kiss lingering there. “Yes.”
“Good.” He released her and stepped around her to unlock the door to the house and deactivate the alarm. When he turned back to her, his smile was predatory. “Better get going, gorgeous. Your time starts now.”
It took her a second for the words to make it through her lusty haze, but when they finally registered, she kicked off her heels and launched herself into the house. Part of her felt ridiculous for joining in some adult version of hide-and-seek, but that small part was drowned out by the sheer thrill of it. How often in her life did she get to have pure, unadulterated fun? To forget that you were supposed to be serious and responsible and practical? She was supposed to be a grown-up, for God’s sake. But this, running from Donovan turned all kind of dials for her. Fun ones. Sexy ones. Competitive ones. The edge of anxiety weaving through all of that only added to it. Her senses were heightened already, and they hadn’t even made it to the naked stuff yet.
So she didn’t care what the stakes were at this point. She was determined to find a good place. She didn’t play games to lose. Though, she had a feeling neither of them were going to lose tonight.
She hurried through the house, considering alcoves and behind couches and beneath curtains, but every place seemed too obvious. She tried the door to his bedroom but found it locked. That gave her pause, but she didn’t have time to waste. She hustled barefoot into the guest bedroom. She peered under the bed but she wasn’t skinny enough to wiggle under there.
“Time’s ticking away, Rush.” The voice came from the direction of the garage. He hadn’t come in yet, but it wouldn’t be long.
She yanked open the louvered doors of the guest closet. Donovan’s winter wear hung from the rack and the floor had a few pairs of shoes. When her eyes alighted on a pair of black cowboy boots, she paused. Firstly, because Donovan West had cowboy boots. She’d never seen him in such a thing and wanted to rectify that immediately. But secondly, it gave her an idea. She peered over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t already heading down the hallway and then grabbed a black peacoat from the hanger and slipped it on. It was far too big and too long, but that’s what she needed. She quickly slipped her feet inside the cowboy boots, happy to see the shoes and coat completely hid her bare legs. She snagged a knit cap from a shelf and pulled it over her head. Then she stepped into the far corner of the closet, shut the doors and turned her back to them.
The bad news was that she wouldn’t be able to watch and see if the light changed between the slats on the louvered door. But the good news was that if he opened it, she’d have an outside shot that he wouldn’t see her unless he looked closely. There were enough jackets between her and where he’d be and she had everything covered. She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead against the wall of the closet, and strained her ears to listen.
A minute or so later, she heard Donovan call out. “Time’s up. Clock’s ticking for a new reason now.”
She pressed her lips together, trying to calm her breathing. She didn’t want to give herself away. But when she heard his shoes hit the hardwoods, her teeth bit into her lip. He walked slow but with purpose. She could hear doors being opened, things being moved around. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, and the heat from her body clung to her inside the heavy coat, making everything even warmer.
She swallowed past the constriction in her throat. It was like being in a horror movie, straining to hear any movements, any sign that you were about to be caught. Logically, she knew she was in no danger, but her body interpreted things otherwise. Fight-or-flight was welling up in her and twining with the arousal that had been humming there already, heightening everything. Heart pounding, skin prickling.
“You’ve earned yourself one orgasm, Rush,” Donovan called out from down the hall somewhere. “That’s good news. I’d hate for you to go all night without one. The teasing would’ve been fun though.”
She nearly groaned but held it in at the last second. The coat smelled like him. Or what the winter version of Donovan probably smelled like—fresh laundry and charred hickory. Like he’d sat by a fire wearing this coat.
The footsteps moved closer. Step. Step. Step. A door nearby opened. Probably his office. His footfalls moved farther away as he explored the room. But then when he called out that she’d earned number two and number three, his voice sounded much, much closer. Oh shit. This room had to be next.
She tucked her hands in the pockets of the coat, her fists curling, and tried to breathe noiselessly. “Last possible room. You’re running out of hiding spots, Rush. Are you somewhere imagining what I’m going to do to you when I find you? I’m already hard just thinking about it. Maybe I should just take a break, lie on this bed, and give myself a little respite, a little relief.”
The voice was far too close, the words far too tempting. Oh, fuck. He wouldn’t, would he? She wanted to turn and look, to bust out of the closet and see if he was teasing or serious. But she forced herself to stay stock-still. She would not break. She would not let him win that easily. She squeezed her eyes tighter.
But then she heard the faint squeak of bedsprings and the clink of a belt being unbuckled. Oh, Jesus Christ. He so wasn’t playing fair. She’d outright told him how much she wanted to see him touch himself. Now he was going to taunt her with a view she couldn’t have unless she gave herself away? Dirty fighting. That’s what he was doing.
God, she loved it. Loved that he wasn’t going to be a gentleman about this.
When she heard him expel a breath, she broke. She couldn’t do it. She had to turn around. With silent feet, she shifted her body, holding herself rigidly so she wouldn’t knock any of the metal hangers and then leaned around the edge of the coats. The slats in the closet door wouldn’t give her an easy view, but they’d give her something. And when her eyes adjusted to the faint light outside the closet, it gave her more than that. Donovan was stretched out on the bed. He’d taken off his suit coat but the dress shirt was still on, his tie loose and the fly of his slacks
open. And his hand, that beautiful hand with the long fingers and strong grip, was wrapped around his cock.
Everything inside her body clenched like a fist. Shameless didn’t even begin to describe it. He was taking his time, enjoying long, slow glides over that thick, hard flesh. The tip was glossy in the moonlight that shone through the window, and he casually rubbed a thumb over the top, spreading the fluid around the head.
Guh. That was the sound she made. But she swallowed it down before it could slip out.
“This feels good, baby. So fucking good. I’ve done this quite a lot lately, thinking about you.”
He squeezed and rubbed, squeezed and rubbed. The slick sound alone was going to do her in. The spot between her thighs had become a throbbing, slippery disaster. Freshly shaven and without any panties to contain things, she had gotten embarrassingly wet. At each little movement, her flesh slid against itself with a lewd, sensual glide. She was tempted to find a way to clean things up, make it neater. Hide the fact that she was this affected. But she was more tempted to just tuck her hand beneath her dress and get herself off.
Instead, she did nothing, too afraid to miss a second of the tableau in front of her. Donovan stroked fingers over his sac, teasing himself, teasing her. “This is very good. But I shouldn’t have to do this for myself, Marin. It’s not very nice of you to hide from me. You’re going to have to pay for that. I think it’s time you did.”
Her heart jumped into her throat as he casually tucked himself back into his boxers and sat up. His pants were still undone, his erection an intimidating outline against the fabric, but the look in his eye was pure promise. She quickly turned, putting her back to the door, knowing he was going to open it in the next breath.
She pressed the front of her body to the wall and the doors opened with a screech. Cool air moved over her. Every muscle in her body froze, all except the incessant pulsing between her legs. He would see her. She’d moved too quick. Something would be showing. But then he sighed and the doors shut again.
All of her breath sagged out of her. She’d done it! She’d won the game. But before she could take her next breath, the doors were jerked open again and a hand ripped the knit cap off her head.
She shrieked as he wrenched the metal hangers aside. Then he was pressed up against her back, crowding her against the wall in the closet. His erection was hard against her, his lips hot against her ear. “I’d say olly olly oxen free, but we both know that’s a lie. You’re far from free, Dr. Rush.”
27
Marin had no idea why she did it. She wanted Donovan so much it was physically paining her. But her immediate instinct when he grabbed her was to fight back. Maybe it was because she didn’t like losing. Maybe it was because she was startled. Maybe it was because her body had its own ideas. Whatever it was, she thrashed in his grip and tried to break loose.
Donovan lost his hold for a second when the peacoat slipped off. He was probably as surprised as she was by her behavior, but he quickly got an arm around her again, pinning her to the wall. His breath came quick. “Sky color.”
She writhed in his hold, still trying to get free. Her body wanted to fight, but her mind held on to what was happening. “Green.”
She sensed his relief even if his hold on her didn’t ease. “You’re not going anywhere. I don’t even know why you bother trying. You can’t be a cocktease all night, let some other man put his hands on you, then hide from me and expect mercy.”
“Get off of me. You can take care of things yourself.”
“That’s not how this works. I catch you. I keep you. For whatever use I want. And I know just how I want to use you.” He let the hand he had on her waist slide lower, his body still pinning her against the wall. He rucked up her dress with a rough pull and then cupped her. All of that warm, wet welcome was evident. She could feel the shame coming on until he hissed out a breath. “Fuck.”
She loved that she’d thrown him off his game a little, that she’d surprised him. Suddenly, she wasn’t so ashamed at just how much this was working for her. And she wanted to play, too. “Lane really turned me on. I love blonds.”
The growl that came from him was full-on possessive and it sent a hot shiver through her. Two fingers plunged into her pussy without warning, rough and oh so sweet. Her heels came off the ground at the sudden sensation. “You’re not going to know how to spell the word blond once I’m done with you. Lift your hands and hold on to the rod.”
She gasped as he curled his fingers inside her but managed to eke out one word. “No.”
He cursed under his breath, but she got the sense that it was out of pleasure, not frustration. He hadn’t expected her to play along so much, to fight him. He moved his hand away from between her legs and she whimpered at the loss. He clamped one hand around the back of her neck, keeping her against the wall like a criminal getting ready for a pat down and then went about rustling around in the coats with his other.
After a few moments, he adjusted his hold and grabbed her wrists. He lifted her arms to the clothes rod and then wound something soft around her wrists, knotting it tight and securing her to the bar. She still had her back to him, but she guessed it was a scarf. He checked how tight it was and then released her. Now her arms were bound above her head. She gave it a test tug and realized she was secured for real. Her breaths came faster. Whatever he was going to do to her, he was going to do in the closet.
“You think you can fucking tell me no?” he said, his hands coming around to squeeze her breasts and vicious, seeking fingers finding her nipples.
When he pinched one nipple hard, need shot down through her all the way to her toes. She’d never been handled so roughly, but it was dialing everything up a notch, making it more intense, better. The urbane doctor was gone. This was Donovan unmasked. The Donovan in his and her private fantasies.
“Go to hell.” She wrenched out of the touch, which only made the pinch sting harder.
“I like hell. I’d fit in there.” She heard the jingling of keys and then the flip of something. She tried to turn her head, but when she did, all she caught was the glint of a silver blade.
Oh, shit. A snap of instinctual panic went through her as cool metal touched the spot between her shoulders. She gasped out his name.
But that didn’t stop him. It wasn’t her safe word. The switchblade ripped right through the fabric of her dress from shoulder to thighs. She let out a little cry as the dress gaped open in the back, the heat of him hitting her skin. With a few more quick flicks of the small blade, he divested of her straps and bra. Her clothes fell into a tattered heap at their feet.
“Now you can’t run.” The words were low and dark, coasting over her skin like a coarse caress. “You’re tied up, naked, and about to get fucked wearing only my boots. All while your co-workers sleep somewhere nearby never knowing what a very bad girl you are.”
The words should’ve sounded silly. No grown woman wanted to be called a bad girl, right? But goddamn, did everything inside her just light up like a fucking solar flare. She couldn’t even summon a faux protest at that. She ached so badly. It was like she hadn’t come in a hundred years. “Please.”
“Please what?” he goaded as he shifted behind her, belt clinking, clothes rustling.
It took everything she had to muster up the words, but the game only made this better. She wanted all of it. “Please let me go.”
“Wrong answer.” He nudged her legs wide with a firm tap from his shoe and then when she didn’t move quickly enough, he slapped her on the ass, quick and sharp.
She yelped from the shock and then groaned when he rubbed a hot palm over the sting.
“Mmm, that’s a better kind of blush. A woman who gets her ass spanked doesn’t have room to blush over other things.” He gave her another pop on the other cheek. And another until the sounds of the slaps were the only thing she heard, the burn the only thing she could feel.
She was going to die. Just sag against the bindings and die right there.
How could the simplest, most basic move set her off like that? It wasn’t the sting, though that was tingly and nice. This wasn’t about pain. Or even the fact that it was a punishment of sorts. It was the intimacy of the act. The joy of it. That neither of them felt silly or weird or ridiculous. That slaps on skin and heated flesh and playing erotic games could just be fun. It didn’t have to be serious or a big deal. They were having a good time and could do whatever they wanted. She imagined him bending her over his lap and just turning everything rosy red and sensation zipped straight to her clit.
“Look at you leaning into it.” There was amusement in his voice, pleasure. “I knew you could be shameless, Rush.” He stopped the spanking and tucked his fingers between her legs from behind. Her knees almost gave out as his fingers rubbed her, spreading her arousal with purposely sloppy strokes. “Whenever you think about blushing, you think about how fucking dirty you are. You may have not done everything you want to do yet. But just give it time. Give us time. You are a slut who hasn’t lived up to her potential.”
She laughed at that, couldn’t help it. Her need was almost at a breaking point and it was making her giddy. “Fuck you, West.”
“Finally, she admits what she wants.” He pumped two fingers inside her, slow, slow, slow, driving her to the edge of madness. Then when she whimpered and writhed against him, he added a third, increasing the pressure tenfold. “Tell me you need me to fill you up. Tell me you want my cock right now.”
She pressed her forehead to the wall, bent at the waist, and openly begging for him with her body, but she wasn’t going to blink on the game. “I want you to let me go.”
“Oh, look,” he said snidely. “She thinks she has a choice. Cute.”
His hand moved up to her clit and then something much bigger than fingers nudged her entrance.
She clenched. Oh, God. Part of her had wondered if he’d actually go through with it. He’d seemed so beat up about taking her virginity over a desk. But apparently taking her the second time had no rules. Anxiety over the unknown welled up.