Spiked Roses: The Complete Top Shelf Series

by Alta Hensley

  “How do you know who I am?”

  “I’m good at reading people. It’s how I made a shitload of money in the courtroom. Not that it is hard with you. You think you hide your feelings, but I can see them. I can read them easily. From the moment you walked into the office interviewing for the job, I could tell you weren’t right for the club.”

  “Then why did you hire me?”

  He shrugged. “A lot of women hired aren’t right for the position. But I also knew you needed a job. Call me a bleeding heart. I don’t know. And I liked that you were honest, you were sober, and you were easy on the eyes. What you did from that point on was up to you. You didn’t have to go into The Tasting Room. And you definitely didn’t have to sign one of the harshest contracts with Marco.”

  “Have you ever contracted someone?” I asked, not wanting to think of Marco and my awful fate signed with my blood any longer. I still had some time on this trip to not think of the devil waiting for me, and I wanted to take that time to pretend I wasn’t going to hell.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I haven’t felt the need.”

  Jesus, the man was a closed book.

  “You don’t want a woman who you can have do whatever you want?”

  “I’ve had plenty of women do exactly what I want. I just don’t need a contract to make that happen.” He gave me a wink. “I got just what I wanted last night and today. No need for a contract.”

  “Ass,” I mumbled, hating that he had that over me. Such an arrogant ass.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kenneth

  Sitting next to Anita was fucking killing me. I tried not to focus on the closeness of our bodies, or the taste of her sex still on my lips. I knew I never should have laid a hand on her. I certainly should have never fucked her. But I couldn’t stop; I couldn’t fight the urge. At least now that maybe we had released all the sexual tension, I could go about doing my damn job, returning her to Marco safe and sound, and getting back to Spiked Roses with the most expensive whiskey I could find. I had fucking earned it.

  I hoped she hadn’t gotten any ideas in her head. We wouldn’t be riding off into the sunset like two lovebirds in a romance. We would never be together. And hopefully she didn’t think that one fuck would equal her freedom from honoring her contract. It wasn’t a possibility. I knew I was in no position to fantasize about the future nor try to take part in any form of a relationship. That just wasn’t who I was.

  I fucked.

  I did not love.

  I had nothing more to offer than her safe return back to New Orleans, and I needed to make that clear to this woman before I started getting her hopes up.

  I needed Anita to clearly understand that what had happened between us, the incredible sex we had shared, meant nothing. It would change nothing.

  But damn… it had been incredible sex.

  “Anita…” I started, pulling from my inner strength to remain firm, no matter what her counter would be. “About what happened.”

  I could see her stiffen against the leather seat, and I knew immediately that she was priming herself for my harsh but true rejection. It was my duty to make Anita understand that there was no other way. We both had our roles—expectations that needed to be followed through with. Even though she’d said she quit, until she completed her contractual obligation, as far as I was concerned, she was a staff member of Spiked Roses… period. I was a managing member and owner. We had roles. We had fucking roles. Lust-filled, starstruck lovers were not, and never would be our roles. And if I kept telling myself that line of bullshit, I might actually start to believe it.

  “Nothing happened. We fucked. Nothing special. Plain and simple. Now we move on,” she snapped.

  I couldn’t ignore the slight wound her words caused. She rejected me before I could reject her. And it was special. It had been mind blowing incredible sex. Fucking incredible.

  “About what happened.” I tried again, needing to clarify the situation. I felt out of control, and I didn’t like it one bit. There was no room for emotions in life. Emotions led to errors. Errors led to failure. “I shouldn’t have allowed anything to happen like that. I know a lot of men at Spiked Roses could care less who they fuck, and they fuck the staff all the time. But I have really been trying to change that. So it was never my intention to have what happened happen.”

  “Nothing happened, Kenneth,” Anita said. “A moment of passion. We’re human. Weak. Even stupid. But all is forgotten.” Her voice rang so cold, so flat. Apparently, Anita had no room for emotion in her life either.

  Her dismissal of what was by far the most intense sexual experience of my life angered me. I should be the one, not her. “Anita—”

  “Kenneth,” she cut off, her tone severe, slicing through the awkwardness like a knife. “This is a non issue. It was just a stupid incident that both of us can forget. Nothing worth discussing happened, and that’s exactly it. So let’s let this topic die, shall we?”

  “It wasn’t just an incident and you know it!” I barked, my fury with her constant denial attacking my ego. I should let it be and move on, but for some reason I couldn’t. And I was showing my cards. I knew better than that. Never show your cards!

  “It was nothing.” She shrugged and looked out the window. “Nothing to write about in my diary or anything.”

  “Oh I disagree. Your body betrays you, baby doll. I seem to remember your wet pussy desperate for my cock to be inside of you. I think I even remember some pleading to fuck you hard.”

  I smirked when I saw her eyes widen and her mouth open in shock as she turned to me. Seeing the vehemence in her eyes gave me the power back. I couldn’t stand her nonchalance before. Anger meant her emotions were mine. I was the puppet master once again. If she hated me, it meant I got to her. I was in her mind. I was in her soul. Now I could strike whenever I wanted. The predator and the prey.

  “You wanted me to hurt you. You wanted me to make you scream. I would say that our incident was definitely more than you want to admit.”

  Lifting her free hand, Anita slapped it hard across my face. “You monster! I’m so sick of you.”

  Grabbing her by the wrist, I pulled her to me, our faces a breath apart. “Call me what you will. I am a monster. I’ve never tried to hide that fact.”

  She looked at me, our stares joined, tears of rage filling her eyes. “Fuck you!” she hissed.

  “What did I tell you I would do if you slapped me? And what did I tell you I would do if you said ‘fuck you’ to me again?” I took a deep breath to control my temper, realizing I needed to regain my composure. Even though my blood boiled over, I was a man of my word, and no woman would take that away from me.

  Anita

  I was in trouble. The look in his eyes, the way his voice dripped with venom, oh yes, I had pushed the man too far.

  “I didn’t mean to slap you. I shouldn’t have said what I did,” I tried to offer, wishing I hadn’t let my temper get the best of me. Anything to undo his wrath. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  Even though I said the words, I had the urge to twist his balls, kick him, poke him in the eyeball with a fork, and slap him over and over again. But I wasn’t foolish enough to actually let him know that. I would say sorry and beg for forgiveness just to avoid the wrath that I felt sizzling up to the surface.

  “You will be sorry, and yes, I will make damn sure it never happens again,” he growled. He released his tight hold of my wrist and began unfastening the leather belt around his waist. “Remove your dress.” He paused to look at me straight in the eye. “I advise you to not offer any resistance or your punishment will be far worse.”

  “What?” I asked as I glanced at the glass divider that separated the driver from us. It was see through. All he would have to do is look in his rear review mirror and catch the show of his life. No fucking way. What was this man thinking to even suggest such a thing?

  Kenneth followed my eyes and could see what I
was looking at. He leaned forward and pushed a button that made the glass of the divider black out. “He won’t be able to see a thing.”

  “Yeah, well… he’ll be able to hear. You’ve lost your mind if you even think I’d consider doing what you just had the nerve to ask.”

  “Now.”

  Fuck, he meant it. I could see it in his eyes. His jaw tightened and the resolve was washed all over his face. He had proven to me already that when he meant something, he really meant it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I could beg and plead. I could even try to open the car door, jump out, and take my chances with the pavement. But I was no fool. This punishment was going to happen one way or the other. He had warned me, and I knew enough to know there was no turning back.

  Fine. Let’s get this over with.

  Taking a deep breath, and straightening my shoulders, I lifted the fabric of my dress up over my head, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor without making eye contact. I was embarrassed, ashamed, and yet so very fascinated.

  The swift noise of the leather belt being removed from his waist sent a shiver down my body, my breasts with hardened nipples revealing my erotic cravings. His deep stare as he folded the belt in half and tested its strength against the palm of his hand caused my pussy to quiver. The control this man had on me…

  I was naked all because he told me to strip. I was sitting here about to have him use his belt on me because he demanded it so. What in the world had gotten into me?

  “Turn around and let me see that ass of yours,” he commanded.

  I stoically did so without hesitation. I had truly lost my mind. Why did he have such a power over me? How could I hate the man so much, and yet do what he was asking? Did I want to do this?

  Yes, I did. I fucking did.

  “Good girl,” he praised. “This belting won’t be nearly as bad as it would have been had you resisted me.”

  Did he just say belting? And why did my pussy throb at the word? It was the rattlesnake again. I wanted to be bit. I wanted to feel the pain. I wanted to dance with the poison lurking in the shadows.

  Bending over and bracing my hands against the door, I could feel the cool air of the air-conditioned car dance across my taut flesh. My contorted body sizzled with anticipation of the first sting.

  Bite me rattlesnake.

  Bite me.

  I closed my eyes and prepared for the lash of leather, trying not to focus on the moisture forming along my sensitive folds. I also tried not to focus on the fact that he would be able to see the signs of arousal as my pussy lips peeked between my inner thighs.

  The pressure was building on the base of my spine. I needed this. I wanted the leather against my flesh. God help me… why? Why did I have this need to dance with the viper? Why did I want him to eat me alive?

  Crack.

  It was as if I heard the sound before the searing heat attacked my ass. I whimpered uncontrollably as I ground my teeth together to fight the urge to plead for mercy. But also so I wouldn’t scream for more and for harder.

  Again came another, and another, and another. He rained down the leather to my punished behind over and over, until I could no longer take the pain and howled out in agony. The driver had to have heard me, though the car continued to drive on. I no longer maintained my grace and pleaded between gasps for Kenneth to stop.

  “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have slapped you!”

  Fuck that belt stung.

  I liked it.

  I hated it.

  I loved it.

  I detested it. My head spun as my body drowned in arousal and pain.

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” was his simple reply as he continued on with the spanking.

  “Please, it burns!” As did my core. My core burned for more. I wanted so much more.

  “It should.” The spanking continued. The belt landed expertly on all areas of my exposed flesh. Had he done this before? The way he wielded the leather had my body humming, and he no doubt was a master at his craft. Kenneth Saxon knew what he was doing. No doubt about it.

  My fingers clawed at the door, my back arched. I couldn’t take it anymore and no longer could hold my position. I spun around and sat on the leather, shielding my ass from his discipline, not sure what my weakness would mean in retaliation. In the corner of my eye, I could see that Kenneth placed his belt back through the loops of his pants. I sighed in relief to know my punishment was over, and yet, the rattlesnake lover in me missed the bite already.

  Kenneth grabbed my ankles, pulling me toward him, the friction against my scorched flesh causing me to moan as I fell back, my shoulders braced where my hands had been only moments before. He placed his hand between my thighs and pressed them apart until his fingertips reached my soaking wet pussy. Dipping his finger into my vagina, he purred, “I see that you like the sting of my belt.”

  I shook my head, even though I knew he spoke the truth. The punishment burned on my sensitive behind, but burned even deeper within. I ached for more. I wanted desperately for his finger collecting my juices to be replaced with his cock. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing, so I shook my head again.

  “Oh yes, baby doll. Your body tells a different story.” He pulled his finger from my sex, causing me to fight the urge to moan in hunger for more. He leaned forward and placed his finger covered in my cream to my lips. “Taste for yourself.”

  Without waiting for me to open, he pressed his finger past my lips, forcing me to taste my own arousal. The musky, salty taste surprised me, but not nearly as much as my next act. As if possessed, I sucked his finger into my mouth deeper, twirling my tongue around to lick every last drop of my own essence.

  I could hear his breath hitch as his finger pulled out of my mouth.

  He reached down to my clit and ran his finger around the little nub. In small circles, his finger caressed, dipping down and drenching it with my juices even more. He then took his wet finger, coated thickly, and placed it at my puckered entrance. He didn’t wait for me to process what was happening and began to push past the tight hole, spreading my essence all around.

  He stopped and gave me an evil smile. “You like this too. You like something in your ass.”

  I shook my head. Again, knowing that I was lying, but I couldn’t admit to my shameful secret.

  He pulled out his finger and then picked up my dress, tossing it onto my lap to cover my bare bottom half.

  I nearly groaned, not wanting to lose his seductive hold over me. But I had finally figured Kenneth Saxon out. He liked having control. All the fucking control. And once again, just like that—he was the bastard, and I was the fool who was caught under his dirty hex.

  I closed my eyes, trying hard to ignore the heat in my stomach, and the wetness of my pussy his closeness caused. There was a time I had considered seducing him into letting me escape. An act that meant nothing but my freedom. But now I wondered if it would merely be an act. I had lost control. More than once. And I could see myself continuing to do so. I lusted—insane yes—but I wanted Kenneth to take me again. I didn’t want to wonder if and when. I wanted it to be a given. A given that every time either of us wanted it, we would have it. I was sick of the cat and mouse. I wanted him to be the tiger, and me the feast. I was so damn hungry for him. He had sucked every ounce of control from my body. He had sucked me dry.

  Kenneth rubbed the top of my thigh, a shudder going through me as I felt his hands lowering to the juncture, but then pulling away quickly. “I shouldn’t want this, Anita. You belong to another. You are owned. That contract meant something. Spiked Roses stands behind what is—”

  “Fuck Spiked Roses,” I snapped, wanting his hand to return, to continue its descent to my waiting pussy.

  “That’s not how this goes. You know it, and I don’t feel I have to keep saying this over and over again. Nothing will change. You signed a contract and Marco owns you for the next two weeks.”

  I looked at him then, my eyes rising to meet his. “I don’t
belong to anyone.” I corrected, my words barely more than a strangled whisper. “But for right now, this instant, I will belong to you if you would just stop being so cruel. Stop fighting this. Fighting us.”

  Was I the only one who felt this magnetic compulsion between us? Was the sexual energy and the intense feelings only one sided?

  Kenneth’s lips on mine stopped any further questions I may have had, his hands busily yanking at my dress, making claim on what I willingly offered.

  I was fevered beyond rational thought. With a deep breath, he seemed to calm. He seemed almost gentle as his palm caressed me, silently commanding me with his fingertips to spread my legs and to position myself for his onslaught. He held me open, wide and exposed to his view, and I trembled as his mouth claimed my pussy. The wet heat of his tongue probed my channel. Before Kenneth, I had no concept of desire. And yet, desire was all I felt for this man. Desire mixed with a hunger so intense my entire body quaked beneath his touch.

  Holding me in place, his mouth brought me a pleasure that almost burned. I was approaching the fire, knowing damn well I shouldn’t put my hand in the flame, but I couldn’t resist. Delicately, Kenneth flicked and nudged through my folds, finding the center of my uncontrolled heat and probing deeper inside. Pulling out, he rolled the tip of his tongue across my sensitive nub then trailed a path of moist fire down my slit to my tiny bottom entrance. The tip of his tongue tapped me there, teasingly, doing a small circle along the puckered flesh, then went back on the reverse journey, saturating me, laving me, tasting me, then plunging even deeper into my core again and again. My body quivered, and I cried out as his tongue worked me over—in and out, small circles, large strokes, up and down.

  I knew I was about to come. I had never reached completion in my life except by my own hand before Kenneth. It wasn’t like I had a lot of options living at exit 222, mile marker 51. It seemed unfamiliar to have someone else bring my body to this level of arousal so easily. It was strange, forbidding, the tension so much greater than anything I’d ever achieved. I could feel my body pleading to let go, to go over the edge. I was almost there and prayed he wouldn’t stop again just to teach me, to school me that there was only one person in control of what happened. He was the master, and I was the slave to his touch. To his claim. To whatever the man wanted if it meant him giving me what I wanted—what I needed—what I had always needed but never found before him.