“I wasn’t a little girl. It was only last year.”
Jack cringed. Yeah, that sounded patronizing as hell.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant with your age difference and the kind of relationship you were in, it isn’t surprising that you trusted him so completely.” He gave her a teasing grin. “And I didn’t say you were a ‘little’ girl. You added that part.”
Her eyes cleared, lips curving up into a small smile. He liked having that effect on her, and seeing the fire in her despite her pain.
“Sorry. I overreacted,” she said. “Anyway, that’s my story. I wasn’t in any shape to take the bar after that. I’m not really sure I ever will. I mean, I had all these dreams about protecting the innocent and defeating the bad guy, but how could I ever defend anyone else’s rights when I’d been unable to defend myself?”
Jack sighed. It seemed a little extreme to give up years of hard work all because of a guy, but it wasn’t his place to judge.
“Does Nick know?”
“Not really. All I told him was that I’d had a bad breakup and needed a fresh start. Gabe got me a job and I came out here.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. That’s not how it should be.”
“How—” She stopped herself. Looked up at him. “How was it for you?”
He sat back, stunned he’d revealed something so private after years keeping it hidden. Jack gently released Lilly’s hand and stared out the window. Eve’s ghost filled the room like a fog.
“It’s not something I talk easily about. My wife and I were very private.”
“I don’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not.” Jack turned back to meet her gaze. “I always knew I was…different. Even as a teenager, I had these fantasies about spankings and bondage, of depriving a woman of pleasure and then giving it at my will.”
Lilly’s eyes dilated slightly. God, she was responsive.
“I thought something was wrong with me, that I was sick and twisted. I tried to bury it, but it didn’t work. We were married for ten years before I looked up BDSM on the Internet and discovered I wasn’t such a sicko after all. Suddenly this door opened up to a world I never knew existed.”
“Did you tell your wife?”
“I wanted to, but I was scared shitless to mention it.” They shared a quiet laugh. It was the first time the recollection didn’t sting. “She pulled it out of me, though. Got me to admit wanting to tie her up. I was sure once we’d acted out the fantasy, then that would be it. But neither of us knew how much I’d like it.”
“How much was that?” Longing flashed in her eyes, the color on her cheeks returning, spreading to a blush that made him hard for her all over again.
“So much that I knew I couldn’t live without it.”
She nodded. He could hear her breathing quicken. “I know what you mean. That moment when you realize this—”
“—is what’s always been missing.” Their eyes locked.
Fuck.
Jack cleared his throat. “So, I understand how addictive it can be. I’m sorry your experience was so bad.”
“Thanks. What I don’t understand is why I still…I mean, how could I want to…”
She trailed off, and what she was trying to say dawned on him.
“You still want to be dominated.”
Her gaze dropped to her lap. “Yes.”
A spike of desire pounded through him. He wanted to hear her whisper that word again, naked and kneeling on his playroom floor. A wet mess barely able to remember her own name.
He was halfway ready to suggest it when her phone rang.
She wrenched it from her purse. “It’s Nick,” she said before accepting the call. “Hi… Yes, I’m fine.” She paused and frowned. “No, I just drank too much. Jack took me home.”
He bristled at her lie. Home was where he should’ve taken her. And it was where he was going to take her, right now. His thoughts were already completely out of line, his body vibrating with hunger when his brain knew better. An unspoken attraction was developing between them, crackling in the air like static on a cold night, and igniting it was a mistake he couldn’t afford making.
Jack waved down the waitress for the check. By the time Lilly said good-bye and ended the call, he was standing, holding out her coat.
“We should get going.”
She silently slipped her arms into the sleeves and they walked to his car, saying little else as she directed him to her apartment.
He cut the engine in front of it. “I’ll see you inside.”
It was the right thing to do—to make sure she was safe.
Inside the building, Lilly led him up a creaking set of stairs, stopping to face him when they reached her door. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.” They were close to one another. Too close. “Have a good night.”
As Jack turned, he saw something mischievous in her eyes.
“You too,” she said. “Sir.”
Jack couldn’t stop himself.
Before Lilly had time to gasp, he had her pressed against the wall, her purse clattering to the ground as he pinned her wrists on either side of her head. She was playing with fire, using that title again, and he wasn’t going to let her get away with it.
“Do you know what it does to me to hear you say that?”
Lilly shook her head, her eyes wide.
“No? You don’t know how crazy it makes me?” He pulled her hands above her head and trapped them together in one of his. “Because I think you do.”
Jack pushed his hips against hers. She arched and whimpered.
“Oh, yes. Your body is telling me you do, little girl.”
Her legs buckled. Jack’s grip was the only thing keeping her from slipping down the wall. He grasped her chin, brought a fingertip to her quivering lower lip and pulled down on it, opening her mouth to him.
“This is what you like, isn’t it?”
Lilly whined. It was a desperate, needy sound. Jack wanted all her sounds, to hear her beg. To see what she’d look like when she came. He freed her mouth and stroked down her jaw to the column of her throat, leaning in to brush his nose along hers.
“Isn’t it?” he repeated, putting a little more pressure on her neck.
She nodded quickly, a tight movement she seemed barely able to make. Jack dragged his nose over her cheek and breathed against her ear.
“Tell me you want this.”
Lilly shivered. Her dress rode up an inch, and Jack slid his thigh between hers to rub against the damp fabric there. Her whole body bucked off the wall, her need palpable, but she still didn’t answer. Something was stopping her, making her fight to keep the words inside.
Impatient, Jack drew her hair into his fingers and made a fist, twisting her head so she had no choice but to look at him.
“Tell. Me.”
He searched her eyes, his stare hot and unwavering until she finally succumbed.
“I want this, Sir,” she whispered. “I want you.”
His mouth open, lips poised against hers, he said, “Good.”
Then Jack kissed her, slipped his tongue into her mouth the way he wanted to fuck into her body. She kissed him back, hungry and eager, and Jack groaned, a deep, guttural noise of satisfaction. Letting go of her wrists, he drove both his hands into her hair and kissed her deeply, tasting her, teeth against teeth. He could feel her heat through his jeans. He wanted inside her, and if they did this a second longer, he was going to break down her door and fuck her in her hallway, safeword or not.
No safeword. Fuck!
Jack broke off the kiss. Released her hair and took a step back. “We need to stop.”
His voice was hoarse, and he glided his fingers over his mouth despite his uncertainty, as if he could rub their kiss into his skin. Li
lly was breathing fast, her palms pressed into the wall. He itched to soothe her, but he couldn’t. She’d been through hell, and here he was about to take her with no limits, no boundaries set.
If he went near her again, he’d lose it.
“I have to go,” he told her. “Before anything else happens.”
“Okay.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. God, she looked so confused. He couldn’t leave her like this.
Wrestling back his control, he moved in and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Go inside.”
Lilly picked up her purse and fumbled for her keys. When she was through the entryway, she turned, one side of her mouth lifting in a meek smile as she gave him a tentative wave. Jack nodded briskly and turned away.
He didn’t look back. He thundered down the stairs and slammed the door behind him.
Chapter Eleven
Jack dropped his things in the kitchen and reopened his bottle of scotch, on the island where he’d left it last night. It was a slippery slope, but he was desperate for the distraction. He’d do anything to kill the ache of wanting Lilly.
He’d been such an ass. It had only been after two drinks the night before and several brutal passes of his hand over his still-pulsing cock that he realized how much he’d fucked up. Being a Dominant meant keeping his head on straight, and he’d been far from that. He was out of his goddamned mind. He should never have kissed her, let alone booked it out of her building afterward. He’d wanted to contact her all day, to make sure she wasn’t regretting the desires he forced her to face, but he didn’t have her number, and asking Brady for it wasn’t an option. He’d found her firm’s phone number online, but calling her there wasn’t a good idea. Receptionists had a tendency to talk, and whatever happened between him and Lilly needed to stay private. The only way he could reach her was through Facebook. It was absurd to have to resort to that, but he didn’t have any other choice.
Jack poured himself three fingers for company and was heading upstairs to his computer when someone’s fist pounded on the front door.
“You’d better have a good excuse for cancelling tennis at the last minute!”
Damn it, he’d hoped his rain-check text would get Patrick off his back. Jack banged the glass on the island, walked down the hallway and yanked the door open.
“You look like shit,” Patrick said. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?”
Jack gripped the edge of his doorframe. He could have made something up, but he wasn’t exactly quick on his feet at the moment. Maybe if he told the truth, Patrick would be able to talk him out of how badly he wanted to go back to Lilly’s apartment and finish what they’d started.
“I kissed Lilly.”
“Seriously?”
Jack didn’t answer. He turned around and went back to the kitchen.
Patrick dropped his tennis bag in the hallway and shut the door. “I thought you were staying away from her.”
“Yeah, that didn’t work out so well.”
Jack took a long sip. Relief fired down his throat, hot and burning. Patrick came into the kitchen, made himself comfortable on a stool and eyed the level of scotch in the bottle.
“So, we’re drinking again?”
“Fuck off.”
“Drinking and cursing. Definitely Harvard’s finest. Well, Professor. You want to tell me how you went from not wanting to go near Lilly five days ago to having your tongue down her throat?”
Jack lowered his glass. “She’s a submissive.”
Patrick’s jaw dropped. Then he smacked one hand down on the island and laughed so hard he nearly fell off the stool.
“What’s so goddamned funny?”
“It’s not funny. It’s just that it’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” Patrick lifted the bottle and held it up in a toast. “To your luck.”
“My luck?”
“Yeah, your fucking luck. The first woman you’ve shown any interest in, and she’s into exactly the same shit you are. I’d say that’s pretty lucky.”
It was an unreal coincidence, but that didn’t make any of this lucky.
“You don’t understand. Her first Dominant fucked her up. She confided in me, and then I couldn’t stop myself from mauling her in her hallway.”
“Nice.”
“Shut up.”
“It wasn’t nice?”
Jack sank down onto the other barstool. “Nice doesn’t begin to cover it.”
He’d tried to block out the feeling of satisfaction that permeated the whole thing. How calling her “little girl” had been a whim, an impulsive move with the intent of putting her in her place, and yet it made her practically melt to the floor. He seemed to know what would coax out her submissive side—he could practically smell the kink on her. But, God, the way she looked when she admitted what she wanted. How she’d called him Sir again, and meant it. The vicious, primal urge that word sparked became all that was driving him, and while he’d tried to harness it, to put it back in its cage, it was pacing behind the bars, wanting to be set free again.
Jack rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t believe I did this.”
“It was just a kiss, Jack. Don’t make a fucking soap opera out of it.”
“Remind me why we’re friends?”
“Because you’re a pervert and I’m a pig,” Patrick said. “So if kissing her was so unbelievable, what the hell are you waiting for?”
“What am I waiting for? She and I can’t have a relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?”
“We’re back to this, now? One-night stands?” Jack reached for the bottle and topped off his glass. “I can’t do that. I’m involved in her life now. She trusts me.”
No doubt she’d trust him right into his playroom. But no matter how crazed he was to see her kneeling before him, she might be too hurt by her past to handle it, even for a few dark, passionate hours. And then where would that leave them?
“It doesn’t have to be one night,” Patrick said, grinning like the day he discovered his father’s porn stash.
“What do you mean?”
“Why couldn’t you come up with some kind of agreement? Talk your shit out beforehand, and then go for it.”
“A contract?” Jack considered the idea, but shook it off. “You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m telling you—people do this.”
“How the hell do you know?”
“How the hell do you not know?”
“Because, damn it, Eve and I didn’t have a contract!”
It was something he’d researched, along with the checklist of limits he’d presented her when they decided to make BDSM a part of their lives. But Eve had simply shrugged and said if there was anything she was uncomfortable with, she’d let him know.
“Well, think about having one now. You both get what you want, and there’s no baggage to deal with.”
Jack stared at his glass and thought about Lilly’s tortured little noises. The desperation in her kiss. It was an enticing proposition, but he couldn’t entertain it. There was too much at stake for both of them.
“She wouldn’t be interested,” he insisted, needing it to be true. “Not after what she’s been through.”
“Really? She let you kiss her after meeting you—what? Twice? I’d say anything is fair game.”
“And what if Nick found out? Or Brady? Or Josh? They’d hate us.”
“Oh, please. How would Josh ever know? He’s thousands of miles away. Brady would be happy you’re finally getting some. Means you’d be less of an asswipe once in a while. And you and Lilly are consenting adults. Her brother doesn’t have a say in who she sleeps with.”
Sleeping with Lilly.
Jack’s body stiffened, from his jaw through his spine and down to his dick. But it wouldn’t be ju
st sex. He’d want all of her, want her to lay herself bare so he could dismantle all those walls she’d put up. Would she be ready for that when behind those walls she was hurting, her wounds pink and raw?
Jack swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “Who am I to teach her anything about submission?”
“This isn’t torts class, Jack. You’re not getting graded.”
He laughed, but it was a tight, uncomfortable sound. This wasn’t a lecture, wasn’t something he could give her readings to prepare for and discuss. Then again, maybe he could do that. She knew so little about the lifestyle, and he’d certainly read more than his share.
No. That was crazy. She didn’t need a professor. She needed someone to heal her wounds. “It wouldn’t work. I can’t be what Lilly needs.”
“I think you might be exactly what she needs. And maybe she’s what you need too.” Patrick shrugged. “This is who you are. Denying that isn’t doing either of you any favors.”
Denying it would be impossible. He certainly couldn’t be around her again, wanting her like this. But…
“That’s not the only reason,” Jack said quietly. “You know this isn’t what Eve wanted.”
Patrick took Jack’s glass from his hand. “Maybe you have to put Eve aside and do what’s right for you for a little while.” He knocked back all that was left and then grinned. “After all, kissing Lilly made you forget about your anniversary.”
Jack blinked, shocked. Grief stabbed him, his breathing tight with shame. For a year he’d felt as though he was missing a limb, unable to take a step without Eve in his thoughts, and yet somehow yesterday he hadn’t spent a single moment recalling the day he’d bound his life to hers.
“But if you’re in no rush to tap that fine piece of ass,” Patrick continued, “I might just move in and do it for you. I know my way around a rope and a spanking.”
A flash of anger seared across Jack’s vision. The idea of Patrick, or anyone else, touching Lilly made his blood boil. He wanted to be the one to make her beg and cry with painful pleasure, to be responsible for the flush of her skin and feel the wet heat between her legs.
Patrick held up his hands in surrender. “I’m kidding. Jesus, Jack. You looked like you were about to rip my throat out.”
His Contract: Legally Bound, Book 1 Page 7
