“Hi, Duncan.”
Jennifer. The woman was becoming a real pain in the ass. With a scowl, Duncan walked into another room and hoped Lana didn’t try to eavesdrop. “What can I do for you?”
“Duncan,” Jennifer chided. “I thought you’d be pleased to hear from me. From what I hear you’ve been working hard on that new farm of yours. When are you inviting me to visit?”
“I’m busy and not set up for guests,” Duncan said. “Besides, aren’t you following the circuit?”
“No, I’m home since Cricket injured his leg during training. The vet says I need to rest him for a month.”
“I thought you had two horses.” Blast the woman. How had she found his number? He decided not to make a big deal about it.
“I do, except I only took Cricket with me this time. I thought I’d give you a ring to say hello and see if we could get together.”
Damn. “There’s someone else,” Duncan said.
“That woman from the dance?”
“That’s right.”
“Oh, I thought she was your cousin.”
“No,” he said, leaving it at that. The less he told her the better. “I have to go. Good luck with Cricket.” Duncan hung up and returned to the kitchen to check the pie, his gut uneasy.
“Trouble?” Lana asked, her fingers tapping over the keys before studying him.
“One of the barrel racer girls. She keeps ringing me.”
“Uh-oh. Woman trouble.” Lana smiled brightly, dragging his focus to her lips. Plump and pink, he knew of their softness. The knowledge didn’t stop him craving a taste. So far they’d touched in a casual manner. He’d wanted to keep things light, so he didn’t frighten her. A mistake. He needed more.
“I told her I wasn’t interested.”
“Probably the best thing to do,” Lana said. “That pie smells good. Did you make it?”
“Emily sent it with Saber. He dropped in this morning on the way to the vineyard.”
“Emily is a great cook. I’ve finished. It didn’t take me as long as I thought to update the cashbook. Should I set the table?”
“Thanks. Cutlery is in this drawer. Plates are in the cupboard near the pantry.”
Duncan caught Lana checking him out and smirked inside, letting the sensual tension build. Her subtle interest made him even more certain of his plan. He pulled a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge and opened it before retrieving glasses from the cupboard.
The meal together, the casual chat about Middlemarch, his farm and her restaurant made Duncan visualize the future. He liked the concept, especially when Lana played footsie under the table. Her laugh tinkled between them, her green eyes crinkling at the corners when she stroked her toe across his groin.
“You should take care,” he warned.
“Or what? Someone will spank my bottom?”
“You like that too much.”
Her face flushed and he couldn’t restrain a grin. He’d never experienced this easy give-and-take with a woman before, not without an alarm blaring, warning him to back off. He’d seen it between Saber and Emily, but had never wanted or sought it on his own behalf.
Lana stroked her toes up his inner thigh and rubbed across his stirring cock. “What will you do to me?”
“I’ll tie you to my bed and pleasure you, pushing you to the edge until you’re begging for release.” Nothing less than the truth. He’d thought of doing this, exerting more of his personality in the bedroom now that they were more comfortable together. If she wanted to give him an opportunity to indulge, he was ready.
“You’ve threatened that before.”
“Promised,” he corrected. “There’s a world of difference.”
“I see.” Lana stroked her foot across his lap.
A quick downward glance showed toenails painted a delicate pink. “Go to the bedroom. Take off your clothes and lie on the bed to wait for me.” When she stared, her lips parting in surprise, he lifted her feet from his lap, pushed away from the table and stood. “In the bedroom. Now.”
Lana stood, a slight crease furrowing her brow. “What are you going to do with me?”
Duncan cleared the table. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then do what I say.”
Still frowning, she turned away and walked to the doorway leading to the passage. Duncan caught her glancing over her shoulder, although pretended not to notice, continuing with his tasks. The retreating footsteps and the tiny huff of pique brought a grin. Lana amused him. He waited for fifteen minutes, washing the dishes first before he followed Lana to his bedroom. He’d wanted her to think and wonder what he might do to her, start the slow buildup to arousal.
Eager to see her on his bed, his footsteps hastened. He came to a halt at the doorway and scowled, although inside amusement bubbled, wanting to free itself in a wide grin. “I thought I told you to take off your clothes, lie on the bed and wait for me.” His bottom lip quivered while he bit back the threatening wave of humor. “I didn’t tell you to start without me.”
Lana paused, her brows rising. Then she continued with the languid stroking between her legs, unashamedly flashing her pussy between strokes. “You were taking too long. I thought I’d get warmed up.”
Duncan watched the measured moves of her hand as she stroked her glistening folds and teased her clit. He stepped into the bedroom, fighting a laugh. “Hands above your head. Now.”
“I haven’t finished.”
Duncan rounded a pile of unpacked boxes and crossed to her side. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the room and dominated the space. A plain green duvet covered the mattress, the sheets a paler shade of mint. He’d chosen them because the color reminded him of Lana’s eyes. “Hands above your head,” he repeated, his tone brooking no-nonsense.
Pouting, she stroked across her clit one final time before removing her hand and raising both above her head. “Well, this is boring.”
Duncan let his eyes drift over her naked body from her pink-tipped toenails, up her toned legs and naked pussy, along her flat belly and rib cage to her plump breasts. Finally he met her jade-green eyes and smiled. “It’s not boring from this end.”
“Humph.”
He strode to the wardrobe and pulled out several lengths of hemp rope. Using a larks head knot, he bound one wrist, taking care to allow a finger’s width of give. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Duncan tied her other hand and moved to the end of the bed to tie her ankles. “Basic rules. We’ll work on a traffic light system. Green for go, amber for caution or slow down, red for stop. You’re in control of when we start and stop. Okay?”
Lana chewed on her bottom lip, the move a giveaway of her nervousness. “What exactly are you going to do?”
“Pleasure you.”
“Then why do I need a safe word?”
“If your arms or legs go to sleep because I’ve tied you too tight or if something I do, some way I touch you is painful rather than giving you pleasure and you don’t enjoy it, you need a way out. You’re giving control over to me, and that takes a certain amount of trust. Your trust is precious and I’d never abuse it. A safe word is part of that trust.”
A tiny frown appeared then cleared. “Okay.”
“Good.” He looped the hemp rope around one ankle and tied it with competent moves, repeating the tie on her other ankle. “Comfortable? Are any of the knots rubbing?” Duncan watched while Lana tested them.
“Um, what if there’s a fire or something?”
“You’ll shock the hell out of the volunteer fire brigade.” Duncan laughed. “I know my knots and can unfasten them quickly. My bag of toys contains a pair of clippers in case of emergency.”
“I’m feeling vulnerable.”
“There’s no need. This is about pleasure.” Duncan moved up to the top of the bed and leaned over to caress her upper arm. She shivered, her eyelids fluttering closed. A soft sigh escaped her. His cock jumped, pressing against his fly. “I’m taking my clo
thes off now.”
Her lips curled upward. “Are you hinting I should watch?”
“I’m telling you to watch.”
Tension choked the room as she lifted her eyelids to focus on him. A ragged breath caused his cock to jerk again. Without haste he unbuttoned his shirt, slid it off his shoulders. His gaze caught hers and held it with hot intent. The cotton shirt dropped to the floor with a whisper. He unfastened the button on his jeans and slid down the zipper. Lana stared at his groin, her concentration total. Blood pumped through his body as her gaze stroked his body. His feline growled, pushing for release. Canine teeth pushed into his mouth and when he tugged the denim over his hips, dark claws were visible beneath his fingernails.
“Come closer,” she murmured.
“I’m in charge, babe.” Duncan maneuvered his boxers over his erection and stepped out of them.
Lana watched him stalk closer to the bed and her heart lurched, the sensation almost painful. Her feline rode her hard, protesting the restraints on her wrists and ankles. She stirred, shifting her weight. The way he looked at her, as if she were precious and important, made the blood pound through her veins. He leaned over and she swallowed, her throat and mouth suddenly parched. His fingers trailed over her shoulder and her arm, a light touch, but enough to send a shiver speeding across her skin. Prickles of sensation collected at the juncture of her thighs while her nipples pulled tight.
She imagined the ways he could touch her, the things he could do to her. The pleasure and a tad of pain. She imagined this and molten desire simmered to life. He ran his fingers over her collarbone and bent to lick around her bellybutton. Each of his touches remained innocent yet she quivered, straining against the ropes and into his touch.
“That’s so good.”
Duncan smiled, and she caught a flash of sharp canines. The knowledge he was so fully involved, enough for his slumbering feline to exert even the smallest amount of control, elevated her pleasure.
A stroke of his hand across her rib cage brought a quiver, the brush of his lips on her inner thigh made her sigh. The mattress moved when he stood and she watched his graceful saunter across the floor to the wardrobe. He grabbed a battered leather bag and brought it back to the bed.
“Close your eyes.”
Like an obedient child, she did. Despite being the one tied, she drifted into a different world where Duncan handled her pleasure. Weird. Giving control to him was kind of liberating. She sensed he moved closer, and she waited, a prickle of anticipation dancing through the pit of her stomach.
Something soft and silky brushed her upper arm and glided over the curve of one breast. Her skin became supersensitive, and every sense intensified. She smelled Duncan’s soap and the crisp cotton of the duvet beneath her body. Lana heard his steady breathing and the rustle of the bedclothes, the faint creak of the ropes when she flexed her muscles. He kept her guessing. She was never sure where he’d touch next or whether it would be with his fingertips or the thing she’d identified as a brush. Gradually his touches became more intimate, a graze of her nipples, a brush over her lips and the faint teasing strokes over her folds.
Vaguely she heard his murmurs of praise as she sank deeper into her newfound world of pleasure and serenity. Duncan shifted position, and seconds later, the stroke of a tongue down her cleft added to the kaleidoscope of sensations. A finger smoothed lower, gliding, pressing. Nerves sprang to life. Her pussy moistened and her breasts swelled.
“Perfect,” Duncan said in praise. His husky voice brought satisfaction as she drifted, the layering of sensations both intense and surprising. She thought she’d known her body, known her capabilities, but this…this was more. She sighed as a finger skirted her clit, traced over her moist folds and lower to tease the awakening nerve endings of her puckered rosette. “Keep your eyes closed, babe.”
He moved over her body, his erection prodding her entrance. Slowly, so slowly he pushed into her, the first magical stroke stretching her swollen tissues and sending even more anticipation rippling through her.
Fully embedded in her, he stilled to kiss her breasts. Nipping. Teasing. Sucking and soothing. Taking so much care she decided no other man would ever stand the comparison. He kissed her, stealing her breath and replacing it with his, implanting his will on her body and pushing her to scale heights she’d never imagined conquering.
Lana quivered and trembled, her pussy clutching his shaft. Pleasure radiated from her clit, streaking along her legs in languorous waves. Never before had it been like this. Never. Her breathing became choppy and her pulse rate raced. His touch soothed her, relaxing and taking her back to her serene bubble.
Finally, he moved, retreating and thrusting in measured strokes, each one a purposeful drag across her swollen nub. Her pulse rate ratcheted up again and the waves of pleasure came faster, more intense. When this happened, Duncan halted, and waited for her to calm. He kissed her, tugging her bottom lip into his mouth and soothing it with a glide of his tongue. He explored the interior, the contrasting hardness of her teeth and softness of her inner cheek before thrusting his tongue in and out of her mouth in imitation of the sexual act. Her breasts ached and her channel pulsed. A pained gasp escaped. Twice more he pushed her hard, building the sexual tension, stoking the fire burning inside her before easing her back to a low simmer.
“This time, babe. I want you to come for me. I want you to squeeze my cock tight and take me with you. That’s it. Squeeze those inner muscles. Yeah.” Duncan stroked in and out, increasing the pace of his thrusts.
She burned. Pleasure glowed through her body. Duncan hit her clit with his next thrust and she exploded, the sensations immense, powerful, shooting down her legs and up her body, surfing across her belly and breasts. The pleasure continued in sharp contractions. Duncan slammed into her hard, pushing her up the bed a fraction until the ropes around her ankles stopped the movement. He groaned, his big body trembling, his thrusts rapid and quick-fire. Then he stilled, and she thrilled at his dark groan of fulfillment.
She opened her eyes to find him looking at her. A blush suffused her face on seeing his expression. “That was amazing.”
“More where that came from.”
Lana wasn’t sure her body could deal with more than what she’d just experienced, too sated to argue the point. Her eyes fluttered closed again. Duncan pulled from her body. He untied her arms and rubbed her shoulders for her before releasing her legs. He disappeared for a few seconds, the distant clank of pipes telling her he’d gone to the bathroom. When he appeared back in the bedroom, she’d hardly moved.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
“If I were any better, I’d turn into a puddle.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” His tone told her he was grinning, although she didn’t open her eyes to confirm, not even when he cleaned her with a warm cloth. Sleep beckoned, besides, she didn’t think she could move.
Duncan studied her, his heart beating faster than normal. That had been the most intense sexual experience he’d ever had. Lana was all and more than he’d expected. No way in hell he’d let her walk away, or worse, let another man snap her up again. Lana belonged to him, his woman, even if she hadn’t admitted it yet, and it made him more determined to emerge the victor in this cat-and-mouse game.
* * * * *
Lana stood at the kitchen doorway and scanned her busy restaurant. Business had been slow the first couple of days after reopening, although once word traveled, the regulars returned and booked out most lunch and dinner sittings. Now in the second week after reopening, Lana had started to breathe easy again.
Her stomach roiled, and she swiped her hand over her forehead. Somehow she thought the flu might have caught up with her, despite telling her chef and waitresses she was all right. Perhaps she’d go to her flat and rest now that the initial rush had died.
Suzy, one of her two waitresses took one look and said, “Flu. You’ve got it. Admit it and go up to bed before you vomi
t over a customer. Your face has turned green.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Lana said.
“Garry, tell her,” Suzy said, appealing to the chef.
“Go up to bed, boss. You don’t want to spread the flu to us, do you?”
“Good argument,” Suzy said.
Lana offered a weak smile and left them to run her restaurant. She rubbed her chest, attempting to push away the tight sensation. From experience she knew she’d bounce back quickly. Felines always did on the few occasions they succumbed to human illness. “I’m sure I’ll feel better by tonight.”
“We can cope,” Gary said. “We might be stretched without you, but we’ll limit the menu for tonight and deal with the rush. Tomorrow is Sunday and we’re closed, so why don’t you come back to work on Monday?” His expression said he doubted she’d be better by then. Lana nodded and trudged toward the back stairs that led to her apartment. When she reached the top stair, she fumbled with the doorknob and made a run for the bathroom. She just made it, vomiting into the toilet.
Five minutes later Lana traipsed to her bedroom and dropped onto the bed, her head aching now that she’d given in to the illness. She’d scarcely drawn breath when the urge to vomit claimed her again. The violent vomiting lasted throughout the night until she fell into a fitful sleep in the early hours of the morning. Her staff was right. The flu bug had caught her too.
* * * * *
Duncan thought of Lana often and rang twice during the week to hear her voice and discuss their separate days. It was difficult, giving her space, keeping their relationship on a casual level when all he wanted was to capture and lock her in his bedroom.
The restaurant didn’t open on Sunday. Duncan picked up the phone and dialed her number. By the time six rings passed, a frown had built. Wasn’t she home? The answer phone picked up the call, and he hesitated, not wanting to leave a message. Messages were easy to ignore. About to hang up, he heard Lana’s voice over the welcoming message on the answer phone.
“Lana, it’s Duncan. Are you okay?”
“Apart from throwing up all night. Yeah, I’m fine.”
My Determined Suitor Page 11
