Under Pressure

by Zoë Normandie

  “Rough week?” the bartender laughed as he approached her, his green eyes twinkling. She leaned back, wondering for a second if he was flirting.

  “You could say that.”

  Then he slung two shots of tequila on the bar top. “On the house.”

  She sucked in her breath, shaking her head. She didn’t want to be rude—but she hadn’t had shots of tequila in a long, long time. That wasn’t her speed. He leaned over the bar, waiting for her to drink. Picking her shot up, she clinked her glass to his and sucked it back for no other reason than to not be so damn stiff for just one night.

  “From around here?” the bartender followed up, wiping down the bar top.

  “LA,” Kendra replied, tracing a crack in the wood with her finger.

  “Ah, what brings you up here?”

  “I’m trying to make a decision,” she confessed, surprising herself.

  “This will help with that.” The bartender nodded at her drink before spinning to go check on other patrons.

  He left Kendra alone with her thoughts, absently staring at whatever was on the TV positioned over the bar. It was one of those instant wedding reality shows—where the couple barely knew each other. She tightened her hand around her glass as she watched, feeling that deep resentment burning.

  The bartender returned to pour a stout at her end of the bar, nodding to the TV. “I think they missed my application.”

  “Don’t go on one of those shows”—Kendra rolled her eyes—“please.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “It’s an easy solution to a big problem.”

  “This isn’t how love and marriage are supposed to work,” she pointed out, “and what is so wrong with being traditional about it? A proper courtship and engagement.”

  “Ah,” he grinned, picking up the full beers, “you’re one of those conservative types.”

  “So what?” She sipped her drink, her back stiffening. If he only knew.

  He cocked his head back, offering her a casual laugh, drawing a smile out of her, too. As he moved away, Kendra realized her phone was vibrating. It was a call…from a blocked number. She bit her lip, not wanting to pick it up. So, the call kept going…and going. It was just about to go to voicemail, so she let it, exhaling deeply.

  The bartender came back, eyeing her up and down. “A conservative woman like you should be at home, in bed—not having another shot, right?”

  He grabbed two shot glasses, and poured tequila into them, seeming to wait for her response.

  She checked the time. It was getting late. But, then again, she found her lips curling into a conspiratorial smile, meeting his grin. Reluctantly, she nodded at the bartender, taking the burning liquid down her throat within seconds. Elbows on the bar, she held her last empty shot glass in her hand, feeling a little less stiff than she had all week.

  “Tell me… Why do men make it so hard?” she demanded, a little slur in her words.

  “Ah, is this the decision you have to make?” He cocked his head, chuckling. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m stuck between a man I can’t have and a man I don’t want,” Kendra admitted, thinking about Delta and Hunter. “I don’t have faith in either of them.”

  “I think you should forget about the man you don’t want,” he said, putting both hands on the bar and leaning toward her. His kind green eyes twinkled as he watched her, something knowing in his face.

  “And the guy I can’t have?” she probed, gazing up at him with wonder, like he was the oracle she’d always needed. “We have a past… and he really hurt me last time I let him in.”

  “Why didn’t it work out?”

  She bit her lip. “I wasn’t good enough for him—wasn’t good enough to be with him in a real way.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “He could have any woman he wants—gorgeous women, successful women—”

  The bartender cut in with, “You are a gorgeous woman.”

  She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder, shaking her head. It was nice to be complimented by a stranger—but he just didn’t understand. Women threw themselves at SEALs. She would barely measure up to any of them. There was no doubt that she wasn’t good enough to be with him.

  Why had she gone and slept with a fucking Navy SEAL? What was she thinking? It was never going to be a thing—nothing more than a ‘one and done’. He was always just going to toy with her, play games to gratify himself.

  “Well, I’d date you,” the bartender said in earnest, bringing the conversation back into a lighter place as he dried glasses from the washer. “You’re a catch.”

  She opened her mouth a little but there was nothing to say. She was a little shy. Is he flirting with me?

  “That’s funny.” She waved her hand dismissively, but deep down appreciating the comment all the same.

  As she pushed back on her stool, making to get up, the bartender’s words lingered. “I’d date you.” She shrugged, dropping cash on the bar, hating how she couldn’t have it all.

  The bartender picked up the cash, putting it away. Then, with all seriousness, he added, “Just talk to him. Tell him what you want. Have you tried that?”

  “Not exactly,” she replied, picking up her bag. “It’s not that easy.”

  He locked eyes with her, knowing.

  She sighed. “I just can’t.”

  “Then he’s not the right guy for you.”

  The advice hit her like a bag of bricks—or maybe it was the very good tequila. Either way, she found herself nearly faltering over the stool as she nodded a goodbye at the bartender.

  I just can’t. The words ricocheted through her mind. There was another time, another day, when she’d said those exact same words.

  As she moved out of the bar, back onto the street, her phone vibrated in her bag yet again. She pulled it out and found she was getting a call from a blocked number—again. She bit her lip, dipping into the alleyway connecting to the hotel parking lot. Maybe she was a little tipsy, maybe her judgment was just compromised—but what if it was really Delta? What did he want?

  She crumbled, answering the call.

  “Hello?” she demanded in a very serious tone, cutting through the alleyway on her way back to her hotel.

  There was a pause, and Delta’s familiar voice questioned, “Where are you?”

  “That doesn’t concern you,” she snapped, looking side to side as she hit a darker spot in the alley.

  Holding her phone to her ear, which impaired her vision, made chills run up her spine as she realized how vulnerable she’d just become. The tequila really had contributed to some bad decisions. Delta chuckled darkly into the line, seemingly amused by her defiance. His rich, warm voice rushed over her body, like he was there in person. Like she could reach out and strangle him.

  “You have no idea what concerns me.” His tone turned intimidating, as usual. She was used to it—though it still stirred her to her core.

  “I’m not doing this,” she countered, but just as she said it, she heard shuffling to her right.

  Her gaze flashed in that direction, and a beefy man taking a piss in the alleyway spun toward her. She brought the phone down from her ear, moving quickly to get through the alley. Shit.

  “Where are you going?” The man’s slurred voice followed her as she walked. All she could smell was booze. “Wait.”

  “Oh shit,” she exhaled as she leapt forth like a drunken gazelle, hearing the man’s footsteps quicken behind her.

  Not soon enough, she reached the end of the alley, learning that she wasn’t alone anymore. Another man dressed in black—with a familiar mask—appeared, waiting for her, clicking his tongue with disappointment. Through the dark, she spun around, and the drunken man swayed, feet away from her.

  “What’s your name?” the drunk garbled, motioning at Kendra.

  “She’s mine. Move along.” Delta extended his long arm, pushing her behind his tall, solid form. Commanding and imposing, he made his territory damn clear.

>   The orders loud and clear, the drunk didn’t hesitate, quickly vanishing back down the alley, leaving Delta with Kendra. Once they were alone again, Delta stood back, waiting smugly.

  “I’m getting tired of you feeling the need to save me,” she snapped, pushing his hands off her and straightening her spine. “I had that completely under control.”

  “Did you?” He smirked, lifting his black mask to reveal his gorgeous face. “And I’m getting tired of you not listening to me.”

  “I don’t need to listen to you, if you haven’t realized. You’re not my father.”

  “But I have been your daddy,” Delta toyed, pushing his own agenda, taking a step into her space.

  She sucked in her breath, feeling the warmth of his close body, inhaling his scent.

  His deep growl continued, “Do you think I’ve fabricated this whole thing?”

  “Without a doubt, you have,” she argued, trying to push away, a little drunk and really guarded. Her body still in fight or flight, she took a step back.

  “I have?” he rebuffed in a deep drawl, taking a step forward. “What a way to appreciate someone. And I’d think you’d be thanking me.”

  “Why would I thank you?” she snapped, irritated at his casual tone. “You are stalking me! For what reason? Look at what you are doing to me. Hell, look at what you’ve done to me!”

  A few tears threatened to escape her eyes, though she bit her lip to contain the eruption. She held it back, reminding herself that he didn’t deserve to see her like that.

  After a brief pause, he replied coolly, “And what exactly have I done to you—except for saving your tight little ass?”

  “Why don’t you save me from yourself?” She slammed against his chest, trying to send the unmovable mass of muscle backward. “Save me from what you are doing to me.”

  But his body didn’t budge, continuing to loom over her.

  “Pray tell… What am I doing to you?” He rolled his tongue along his bottom lip, seeming to savor every moment of her agony.

  “God, Delta—isn’t it obvious?” She waved her hands, livid. She didn’t want to spell it out for him, but a tear betrayed her, trickling down her heated cheek.

  “Tell me— I want to know what I’m doing to you.”

  Kendra was resolved to remain silent, unwilling to give him what he sought, but passion flushed up her neck. He drilled his dark gaze into her. It was damn clear that he knew exactly what he was doing and wanted gratification. He wanted her to break. Even in that shadowy parking lot, she could see his jaw flexing and his shoulders tightening in that same way she remembered when he once was on top of her, ravaging her.

  “As stubborn as always”—he gripped her arms, yanking her up into him—“with a resolve that I’d love nothing more than to break.”

  “You’ll never break me,” she cried, wriggling to break free. “Get that into your fucked-up head.”

  “A little discipline would go a long way in smartening you up.”

  He let out a low, dark laugh—less amused, more threatening—holding her tighter against his chest. Digging in, he roughly traced down to the small of her back, driving sensation through her body.

  “I’m sure you’d love to discipline me.” Her lips parted as her tone grew mocking. “Wouldn’t you, Daddy?”

  “I would.”

  His tone didn’t waver as he trailed his eyes up and down her body. He edged his teeth over his bottom lip, machinations clearly roiling in his mind.

  “Don’t even try,” she countered, trying to push away. “You have no authority here.”

  “Don’t challenge me,” he growled, tightening his grip to keep her where he wanted. “You know I’m competitive, and you know I like to win.”

  “I know something else, too. I’ll never be yours.”

  Her lips pursed as she tried to prevent her voice from cracking, not wanting to show him the agony he caused her. Her words seemed to echo through the space, processing what she said. She was struck by a sudden silence, locking eyes with him when it hit Kendra—the strange aching in his gaze.

  “Matteo…” she quickly whispered, a rawness escaping from her throat. “I—”

  “Don’t—” he snapped back.

  Eyes on fire, Delta dropped his head to take her mouth for his own once more—without permission, without apologies. And she remembered he didn’t take orders. He gave them, which only made her thighs shake. He kissed her well, just how she liked it—opening her mouth with his, passionately compelling her to play. Her blood pumped harder and harder as she surrendered to him, tasting his tongue. Her chest continued to lurch as she fell harder into his sculpted arms, letting him hold her, feeling her emotions boiling over.

  Something about that kiss must have been different—less controlled, wilder, like he was sending a clear message. The dominance that always turned her on intensified, frightening her just enough. One thing was for sure. Delta never had to try to dominate her. He just did. She hated it, but it was true. And like she was his to enjoy, he roughly ran his hands up and down her body, gripping and grabbing as he wanted, stirring that crazy response in her. Lingering, burning desire and wetness tingled at the entrance to her pussy, pleading once again for his masterful touch.

  He’s winning, a bitter voice screamed in the back of her mind. Don’t let him.

  “Enough!” She pushed back like she’d touched open flame.

  Spinning on her heels, unwilling to catch his gaze lest she falter, she sped into the hotel. If there was one thing she heard as she left, it was a hungry growl escaping his likely enraged mouth. Sure enough, there was one thing she could depend on with Delta. He never ceased to keep things exciting.

  Chapter Eleven

  The mattress in this hotel is a little too hard and lumpy for someone coming off the type of day I’ve had, Kendra thought as she ran her fingers over the starchy white sheets, closing her eyes. If she hadn’t had so much to drink, she’d be driving home and getting the hell out of Dodge—and the room wouldn’t be spinning.

  Knowing Delta wasn’t far and knew exactly where she was—she was in the last place she wanted to be. As it was, she couldn’t get behind the wheel in her state, and the idea of gallivanting down the sidewalk for another hotel room seemed sketchy.

  Kendra’s internal conflict revved on, and she found herself holding her chest, on guard. Alone with her scars, with nothing but moonlight for company, her aching body grew heavy. Her walls sturdy, she resolved to just be alone.

  Delta… What a joke it all was. What was he after? Why did he keep showing up? No doubt, just to prove he could have her if he wanted to. Selfish, always. He didn’t want much else than to torture her for his own ego. The conceited asshole… Any chance they had to be something had all but dried up, like that blood on his glove.

  Too tired to cry, too alone to care, she drifted into hard sleep, much harder than she’d wanted it to be. She didn’t know what time it was when she woke up but was shocked awake realizing that someone was on top of her, holding a warm, rough hand over her mouth. She tried to scream and kick and punch—but he was just too damn strong.

  Inhumanly strong.

  “What the hell!” She tried to scream through the hand over her mouth, trying to bite it.

  From the moonlight cascading in through the window, all she could see was that the man on top of her had a dark hood up and a familiar wide smirk on his lips.

  “You’ve been causing me enough trouble,” Delta rumbled, pressing his calloused hand to her mouth. “Look at how careless you are—how vulnerable you are. You think I have time to watch your ass night and day?”

  She shook and squirmed, trying to push him off, helpless under his gripping power. Muffled by his hand, she begged, “What are you doing?”

  “Teaching you a lesson.”

  He pressed his mouth onto her throat, tasting her sensitive flesh. He wasn’t gentle, just as rough as he wanted to be. Using his teeth to rake upward to her jaw, he hit the bruising on her
face from the night of the car accident and she winced. Through her muffled cries, he furthered his lecture.

  “This is what happens to girls who don’t listen. A big bad wolf will come in here and eat you alive.”

  She reeled under his hot breath as he found his way to her ear with his tongue, gnawing until it hurt, driving her to need him desperately. What was he going to do to her? Her hips jolted under the weight of his body as he slid his mouth down, biting at her throbbing neck like she was his game.

  “You want this, don’t you?” Delta challenged her.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “Yes!”

  Her pussy ached as she felt his raw authority, that dominance she craved. She was his for the taking—no matter what her better judgment told her. Hovering over her, he gripped her jaw, locking eyes.

  “Moving forward, you will obey me.”

  Releasing his hand, he drew out a rope from his pocket, pushed her arms above her head and tied them tightly to the headboard without mercy. She let out a cry as he did so, which was met by his punishing amusement.

  “Is that clear?” Delta demanded as he tested the integrity of his knot, causing her to wince in pain.

  She didn’t answer right away, so he grabbed her jaw again, just as harsh as before, staring her down.

  “Is that fucking clear?”

  Biting her lip, she replied, “Yes, Daddy.”

  Then he kissed her…hard.

  And in that kiss, he whispered a promise. He was going to protect her, whether she liked it or not. Lowering his body onto hers, he glided his tongue into her watering mouth. The weight of his big, strong form pressed into her, and a moan escaped her throat. She didn’t want to want it as much as she did. They entangled, his scruffy beard against her soft skin, and she inhaled the intoxicating smell of his pure masculinity.

  The kiss was devolving into a messy make-out, and she arched her back as she found herself needing and wanting his touch everywhere, just like he’d promised once upon a time. Hearing her moans, it seemed like he had the playbook to her fantasies. He moved his hands down her chest, feeling her peaked nipples. She was completely at his mercy. He wasn’t gentle, kind or loving. He was an assailant, a hungry predator, showing her that her only chance at survival was to give in. It was the scenario she’d fantasized about all year. Demanding her surrender, he kept his hard mouth on top of hers, tightening his hands at her neck, proving he could do more than just dominate the fuck out of her.