by Brooks, Abby
“He speaks the truth,” Ian said as Juliet took Harry’s hand. “I’m no cook. And I can’t shut up about you.”
“And on that note, I’m gonna let myself out and give you two some space.” Harry gave Ian a few instructions to finish up dinner and said his goodbyes, cursing at the rain as he opened the front door into a deluge.
“And that was Harry,” Ian said as he held up a bottle of Shiraz, a question on his face. “More comfortable in the pouring rain than he is next to a beautiful woman.”
Juliet nodded at the wine and smiled at the sentiment. She instantly liked Harry in the same way she’d instantly liked James. She said as much to Ian as he poured them each a drink. “Seems like the Moores are just good, likable people.”
Ian chuckled. “You haven’t met Lilah yet. She’s good, but she’ll make you work to like her.” He led Juliet to a breakfast table as lightning pulsed outside a nearby window. Ian shook his head. “See? Couldn’t get more ominous than that.”
“She can’t be that bad.”
“Let’s see. She’s beautiful and knows it. Spoiled and bossy as the day is long. She’d do anything for you, as long as you wanted it done her way and you thanked her for the next hundred years. Preferably with gifts.”
Juliet could see the affection he felt for his sister dancing in his eyes. “Yeah, but I bet if anyone else talked about her like that, you’d beat them up and make them apologize.”
“Damn straight.”
The first bottle of Shiraz barely made it through dinner, and they were halfway through their second when Juliet finished the last of her dessert. Her head spun with wine, lust, and laughter. Ian wasn’t looking all that steady himself as he led her into the living room.
Sinking into the brown leather couch, she kicked off her shoes, tucked her legs beneath her and took another drink.
“All right, more questions.” Ian claimed the seat beside her. “But let’s skip all the easy stuff. I want to know the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done.”
Her experience with Peter pressed against her lips and she drowned it with another drink of wine. “Skydiving,” she declared instead. “What about you?”
“Skydiving,” he echoed with a quirk of his mouth. “Back to you. What else?”
“Now hang on. I don’t believe for a second that skydiving is the most dangerous thing you’ve done.”
“Well, I guess flying a fighter jet, landing on an aircraft carrier, trying to pull my friend out of a burning plane.” Ian took a long pull of wine to cover the flash of pain that flared across his face. “I guess those things are kind of dangerous.”
“Kind of? I can’t even imagine the amount of courage it took for you to do your job.”
He shrugged off the compliment. “Now, I’ve given you like”—he held up his hands, counting off on his fingers—“five answers for the price of one.”
“I don’t think that’s how this game works.”
“Hey, now. I made the game, so you can bet your sweet ass I know the rules backward and forwards. Even the super advanced secret ones. So, I gave you five answers, now you owe me five.”
Again, the contract was the first thought that came to mind, but she chased it away with another drink. “I moved to New York City all by myself just after I graduated high school.”
Ian faked a yawn and gave her a bored look.
“Hey! That took a lot of guts!”
“I’m sure it did, but that doesn’t fall into the realm of what I’d call dangerous.”
Juliet puffed out her cheeks. At the time, it sure felt dangerous to her. “Okay. Well, there’s the bridge jumping stuff—”
“I’ll agree that’s dangerous, but you’ve already used that one.” Ian leaned forward. “Come on, what have you done that’s really bad?”
Flustered, Juliet said the first non-Peter thing she could think up. “Sometimes, when I go through the self-checkout lanes at the grocery store, I think about how easy it would be to keep an item or two in my cart.”
Ian laughed and shook his head. “But I bet you’ve never done it.”
“No. I always pay for everything.” She heard how safe and boring she sounded, and it embarrassed her. She finished her glass of wine and hoped he’d assume that was the cause of the flush on her cheeks.
“Okay, you owe me at least one more thing. Dig deep, Juliet, make it really good.” He held up a finger and looked stern. “And don’t you dare try to use the bathroom sex. That was too amazing to be dangerous.”
“I signed a BDSM contract with my boss,” she blurted out.
The words fell hard and heavy between them and her entire body went on pause while she waited for his response.
Her heart stood still.
Her breath caught in her lungs.
She couldn’t bring herself to blink.
Couldn’t know if it felt good to have it out in the open, yet.
Wouldn’t know until he responded.
She swallowed, afraid her happiness hung on the edge of a knife.
Ian choked on his wine and set the glass on the table. “Excuse me?”
She explained the whole sordid affair, her words coming first in short, gasping sentences, but then, as she grew more comfortable, they rolled out in great waves that matched the ocean raging with the storm outside.
“At first, it sounded absolutely perfect. A no-strings-attached way to be in a relationship without actually being in a relationship. And I’d always liked sex a little rough, or at least I thought I did. I hadn’t had much experience before…you know.” Ian nodded and she continued. “But then he, well, when we signed the contract, it was all very professional. We sat in his boardroom and went over the things I said I would and wouldn’t do. You know, hard and soft limits? I wasn’t very interested in the pain stuff. Turns out I’m way more BD and not at all SM. You know, bondage and domination instead of sadism and masochism.”
“I know what BDSM stands for.”
Juliet couldn’t read Ian’s face, but she’d broken the dam and the words flowed forth. “This guy—Peter. Peter Vox. CEO of Tech Lord. He’s definitely into the SM…” She trailed off, her voice beginning to shake. “He was happiest when it hurt. I took as much as I could. But I had to use my safe word. Twice. The first time he stopped but was just awful about it. The second time? He just…didn’t stop.” Juliet swallowed and wished her glass wasn’t empty.
Ian said he wanted dangerous. There was a whole lot of dangerous right there between them, and he just sat still, not saying a word.
She needed him to talk.
Needed him to say something, anything. Even if it was just to tell her to get out of his house because he couldn’t be with someone who’d done something so…dirty.
Well, no. Not that. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. But at least then she’d know. At least then she could stop holding her breath with her hands shaking, waiting to see if she’d just ruined everything.
Chapter Thirty
Ian
Fucking hell. He’d wanted the truth and there it was. Of all the things he’d imagined, a BDSM contract was the one thing that never came to mind. No wonder she was so skittish that first night, when he’d grabbed her wrists and smacked her ass. And there she was, staring at him with her wide brown eyes, chest heaving, lips quivering, waiting for him to reply.
Fury raged through him with all the force of a hurricane.
Peter Vox had hurt her. Sure, their relationship had kind of been about that, but if Ian understood it right, Juliet had marked the pain stuff off limits. But Peter didn’t listen.
He just kept going. Taking what he wanted. Until he pushed her past her limit.
That was no kind of man.
That was weakness hiding behind power. A coward trying to make himself feel big and strong.
“If you want me to go…” Juliet stood, her voice catching in her throat.
“I most definitely do not want you to go.” Ian took her hand and pulled her into his lap wh
ere, for a moment, she rigidly perched before she melted into him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her breath brushing against his neck.
“Why?”
“For…” She sat up and Ian didn’t like the scared little girl he saw in her eyes. Not one bit. “For being…all that.” She dropped her gaze to his collarbone.
“Juliet, look at me.” He put a finger to her chin and lifted her face. “You have nothing to apologize for. This doesn’t change how I feel about you. Doesn’t change how much I want you. It only helps me understand you.”
“Promise?” she whispered.
“I promise.” He shifted, freeing an arm to grab his wine glass. If ever there was a situation that warranted alcohol… “Tell me why you did it.”
Her eyes flickered to his. “I was curious.” She shrugged. “It seemed like a safe way to experiment.”
“I get that. And I’m not gonna lie, I love that you’re so willing to try new things, but why did you need a contract? Why did you need a relationship like that? One that was cold and clinical? Built on rules and obedience?”
Juliet bit her lip and pursed her eyebrows. “I’d never really thought about it. Just assumed it came with the territory, you know? But, honestly, it felt safe to relax into. I was tired of having to guess my way through life. The contract gave me clarity. Do this. Don’t do that. I knew exactly which actions were good and which were bad. What would lead to reward and what would lead to punishment. It was soothing after making it all up on my own and not knowing if I was getting any of it right.” She sighed. “That sounds so weak…”
“From what I gather, you’ve been making hard decisions for a long time, probably long before you were ready. When you think about it, it makes sense.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. I really do.” Ian slid from underneath her and offered his hand. “Come with me.”
He hated the way her hand trembled when she placed it in his. Couldn't stand to think about all the things that made her so fragile.
Damn if he wasn’t going to fix all the things life had broken inside her. As a giant fuck you to the people who’d taken her for granted, he was going to make her feel like a queen. Ian took both wine glasses in one hand and led her back to the kitchen. She protested when he filled one and handed it to her.
“My head’s already spinning…”
“You afraid to get dangerous with me?” Ian still held her hand and gave it a squeeze, then looked her deep in the eyes and leaned in. “Stop worrying about being perfect all the time, and about always making the right decision. Sometimes, the wrong ones are the best ones. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”
Her lips parted and he heard her sharp intake of breath.
Saw fear pushed back with trust in her wide eyes.
She took the glass he offered and sipped from it, and followed as he led her up the stairs and to his bedroom.
“Take another drink.” He smiled at her and she did as she was told. “Another.”
“Ian…”
“Another,” he said more forcefully. If she liked domination, he was more than willing to play that game.
Juliet took another drink and waited for him. If she’d spent too many years struggling to find true north, scared enough to fall into a relationship with a sadist pain-monkey who needed to demean her to feel powerful, then Ian Moore was the man to make all that right.
Chapter Thirty-One
Juliet
Never in her life had Juliet felt so vulnerable. So exposed. Her secrets set out on display. She needed contact and reassurance and Ian’s silence downstairs had sent her head reeling, her stomach dropping, taking any hopes of logical thought with it. Her head was a mess of emotion and reaction and there she was, standing in his bedroom, waiting to discover just how much she’d messed things up.
“Put your glass down, Julz.”
Her heart spasmed to hear him use her childhood nickname for the first time.
“Now get undressed.”
If her nickname brought a spasm, his order damn near brought on a stroke. Nerves jumped in her hand and she hated to watch it tremble as she deposited her wine glass on his bedside table. Being with Ian usually made her feel powerful. Secure. But standing there, she felt weak and worried and uncertain. She dropped her eyes to the floor and reached around to undo the zipper in the back of her dress. Her hair fell over her shoulders, covering her face from view.
“Look at me.” Ian’s voice, while stern enough to command her attention, held affection, too. The combination melted her doubts and uncertainty, filling her with confidence.
Ian would take care of her. He’d make her safe. He’d said it—and proved it—time and again. She tossed her hair, sweeping it out of her face and over one shoulder, to look Ian in the eye. If his voice turned her on, his expression set her on fire. His eyes blazed into hers, hooded and passionate.
He wanted her.
There was power in that. Power and confidence.
Holding eye contact, she pulled the zipper down and shrugged out of her dress. It pooled at her feet on the soft carpet, and Juliet stepped out of it. She stood in her white, lace lingerie, watching his eyes travel her body. Feeling brave, she ran a finger over her collarbone, traced it down her chest, over the swell of her breast, and circled a taut nipple.
“Damn, if you’re not amazing.” Ian’s voice was thick with lust and goose bumps flared across Juliet’s arms. “Lie down,” he said, indicating his bed.
“Yes, Sir.” The response was automatic, brought on by the authority in his voice.
“No.” Ian crossed the room to meet her as she stretched across his goose down cover. “I don’t want you sir-ing me.” He stroked her cheek and she turned her head into his hand, seeking more contact. “You and me? We’re equals in this, you got me?”
Juliet nodded and smiled, affirming but restrained. Deep down though, she wanted him desperately. She wanted his hands, roughened by physical work, to trail down her body, to touch her everywhere. She wanted his damn clothes off so she could enjoy looking at him. So strong, so capable. And she wanted her hands on his velvety dick, wanted to run them up and down his shaft, watching his eyes roll back in his head as she brought him pleasure.
“I need you to say it.” Ian traced a finger from the soft spot of her neck, down between her breasts, and on toward her belly button. She arched her back, her desire for him becoming a physical need. “Say you understand.”
“I understand.”
“What do you understand?”
If he didn’t touch her again, she might explode. “That we’re equals.”
“That’s right, you and me, we’re in this together. And you never have to worry again because I got you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Do you now?” He dropped a finger onto her stomach, starting below her navel, then tracing downwards. When his fingers reached inside the waistband of her panties, Ian stopped.
Juliet moaned and arched her back, needing him to continue, needing the friction of his touch.
“And I think I know something else you’ll like.” He withdrew his hand and stood. Her eyes flew open and she watched him cross the room to his closet, disappear inside, then reappear holding something behind his back.
“You say you like the BD way more than the SM? Well, here’s the good news. Me, too. I like it a lot. I’m going to tie you up and dominate you, angel. And you’re gonna like the way I do it, because I’m very giving. It gives me pleasure to give you pleasure and you’re gonna come for me all night. Understand?” He waited for Juliet to nod before continuing. “And Juliet? You ever feel uncomfortable, you say the word and I’ll stop. I don’t need you to feel small for me to feel big.”
Ian brought his hands out from behind his back and showed her what he’d been hiding. Rope. Yards and yards of smooth, black rope. Her eyes went wide and she smiled despite a shock of adrenaline coursing through her body, pooling between her legs. He took his t
ime binding her wrists, pulling the knots taut, stopping to stroke her arms and trail kisses along her jawline. Juliet writhed, desperate for more of his touch. When her wrists were bound, he ran the rope through the slats of his headboard and finished things up with a strong tug against the knot.
“Do you like that? Being bound?”
Juliet met his eyes and nodded.
“Good girl. I like it when you look at me. But I like it more when you use your voice.”
“Yes,” she managed. “Yes, I like it a lot.”
“You said you don’t like pain, but when I slapped your ass that first night, you seemed to want more.”
Juliet blushed and dropped her eyes, heat and need swirling through her. “I liked it,” she murmured, and then brought her eyes to his. “The way you did it.”
“And what about this?” Ian brought his mouth to her breast and kissed her through the sheer lace of her bra. “Do you like this?”
She lifted her chest toward his mouth, the feather-light kisses not enough. “Yes.”
Ian pulled her bra down, freeing her breast, and sat back. “You have the most perfect tits. They’re jaw-droppingly amazing.” He traced around her nipple, took it between his fingers and squeezed, gently first and then harder. When she moaned in pleasure, he squeezed harder still, rolling it between his fingers.
“Do you like that?” he asked when she gasped.
“Oh, Ian! Yes!”
“And what if I do this?” Ian bent down, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking so hard that she arched her back again. Moaning and groaning and feeling the moisture build between her legs. He stayed there for a while, alternating between sucking and biting, using his teeth to add light pressure to the sensitive skin. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he drove a hand into her panties, his fingers grazing her clit.
