Collared (Going to the Dogs)

by Dawson, Zoe

  “I’m a scary guy.”

  “Street tough.”

  “That’s where the schooling really begins.” She was so close to him, she could almost feel the heat of his chest against her breasts. He glanced down and she liked the way he looked at her, all heated male. All it would take was two pulls and he’d have her top off. Her nipples were two hard points against the fabric. His face was taut. She hoped it was taking everything he had to resist her. If his hot brown eyes were any indication, she’d say she was pushing his boundaries, hard. Harper so loved a challenge.

  She’d been wondering about his upbringing, his background, and that surprised her. She wanted to get to know him better. He intrigued her so much. Where had he come from? Who was he? How had his life molded him into who he was? She felt the deep-seated need to discover all of that and more. “No wonder you have such a terrible opinion of me and my brother.”

  He bit his bottom lip and her insides jumped. Even though it was in remorse, it was so sexy on him.

  “I’m sorry about your brother. I didn’t mean that. Don’t listen to me. I’m a grumpy bastard.”

  She smiled at his grouchy tone. “I like that about you. You’re always: ‘What the hell are you doing, what the hell were you thinking, or what the hell is this…?’”

  He laughed. “I am not,” he growled.

  “You are.” She smoothed her hand over his silky cheek, brushing at the hair that had slipped over his forehead. “You so are.”

  He closed his eyes at her touch, his breath hitching again. “How long are you going to torture me?”

  “Breaking you will be my pleasure.”

  He shook his head, taking another hard breath. “How much willpower do you think I have?”

  “A boatload. But I haven’t really started to tease you yet.”

  It was taking incredible willpower on her part to just sit and chat, as if the explosive chemistry between them wasn’t electrifying every atom and air particle in the room.

  “I have a bad shoulder.”

  She smiled and, this time she melted inside. “Well, it’s not your shoulder I’m after, Caleb, and I’d do all the work.”

  He sucked in a hard breath and she could see him jerk behind the fly of his jeans. He groaned softly. “Geezus, Harper.” She wanted to touch him there so desperately, but that would be cheating. Once you went for the hard stuff behind the fly that was hitting below the belt. In more ways than one. Where was the challenge in that? She’d kept her hands off his waist and his groin, focusing her seduction on his upper body, but she was banking that it was having a very big effect way down south.

  But she was past caring if she cheated or not. She skimmed her fingertips in the hollow of his throat, drawing lazy patterns down over his chest, his stomach.

  He clasped her hand when she reached the waistband of his jeans, his eyes closing as her fingertips moved unerringly toward his groin.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a beautiful man in my life. I could spend hours touching you.”

  “What is it you want from me? From this?”

  Her stomach jumped. She was about to say sex, then she realized that it might have been sex at first sight, but now that she’d seen him in action in the bar, interacted with him, she wanted something more, something she couldn’t define. “I don’t know. Can’t we just…let it be?”

  “I don’t know. Can we?”

  She would have to fortify her defenses against this man. At least until she understood him better, saw his character more clearly. He could easily be playing hard to get so that she would pursue him. “We won’t know until we try.”

  His gaze locked with hers, and she had to fight against the urge to flee. She was playing with fire, an explosive, incendiary kind of fire that could not only explode and burn her badly, but severely injure her heart and mind. But she wanted him. She was sure of that. Physically, there was no contest. That was the part she was absolutely sure about.

  And, for her, that was the easy part.

  He pushed his hips off the edge of the bed until he slid to the floor, slipping his hands beneath her bottom, he nudged her toward his lap. She tried to stop him as he grunted when his shoulder protested. He closed his eyes when she settled against his pelvis, her knees on either side of his hips, straddling his thighs.

  “Is this where you want to be, princess?” He had to be at the end of his resistance. She was sure of it.

  The hard, exquisite heat of him fired up her frenzied blood another notch. “One of them.”

  Just like in the alley behind the bar, a look came over his face. It was hard and hot and said he wanted to fuck her right now, deep and hard. She trembled against him.

  Two little pulls and the top of her bikini top slipped off her and disappeared. She gasped softly when he flattened his hands against the small of her back and his mouth clamped over one of her hard nipples. His mouth was hot, wet, and skilled. She arched into him, her hands delving into his thick hair, causing her to swallow a groan of satisfaction as the rigid length of him came into contact with the softest part of her. But he didn’t react to that, no hip movement, no pressing against her. He had managed to cage his desire, and she didn’t want that.

  He pinched her other nipple and bit down gently on the one in his mouth, then sucked hard and her thoughts scattered, fractured, and blew apart. Her lips parted on a heated, tortured gasp, and she moved sinuously against him, tormenting them both.

  He slipped his hand over her ass, delving beneath the scrap of fabric to the hot, wet core of her. She cried out when he touched her and rubbed rhythmically against her pleasure point until her hips were thrusting into his.

  With each soft puff of air out of her mouth, she groaned.

  “Fucking come for me, Harper. You’re so close. I can feel it. Come all over me, beautiful.”

  Their gazes locked. Fused, it seemed. The air around them was charged with her pleasure. He moved to her other nipple and sucked hard on that one as he gentled his touch against the slick heart of her.

  With a soft cry, she unraveled as wave after wave of intense pleasure slammed so hard into her she could only feel, absorb the sensations. As she climaxed, she gripped his shoulders, dropping her face into the hollow between his neck and his shoulder.

  He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her damp hair. For a moment they sat that way, labored breathing quieting.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Miss?”

  “Yes, Juliana.” Thank God, her housekeeper would never open a closed door without permission.

  “Commissioner McDonald is here.”

  Chapter Seven

  Harper gasped and pulled her head back to meet Caleb’s eyes.

  “Fuck,” he said.

  She scrambled off his lap. “Juliana, ask him to wait in the library.” She turned to him. “Are you on duty today?” She wasn’t naïve. Tripp would be pissed if he knew she was in here, half naked with Caleb, and still trembling slightly from the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced, and wishing he was deep inside her right now.

  She was aware Tripp had targeted her. Aware that he thought she was a primo catch and that she would fit nicely with his ladder-climbing bid for the mayor’s mansion. But Tripp was exactly the kind of man who would never see beyond what she could do for him. He would never be able to see beyond her money. She was nothing but an asset to him.

  Her main concern was Caleb. She wouldn’t want him to be adversely affected by Tripp’s jealousy.

  “No, I get weekends off.”

  “But you could question my employees right now. Couldn’t you?”

  He grabbed her wrist. “Are you concerned for me, Harper?”

  “Yes. Tripp would like to add me to his collection of ladder-climbing tools. I don’t intend to be any kind of stepping stone for anyone.”

  “What a pretentious bastard!” He studied her for a few minutes, his eyes speculative.

  She laughed softly
and skimmed her hand over his jaw.

  “You’d better throw some cold water on your face before you see him. You look beautiful, but you’re flushed.”

  “What stupid timing. I wasn’t quite done with you.”

  He groaned and leaned his head back. “You or that pampered poodle are going to be the death of me.”

  “I know this, hotshot. Sixty pounds of poodle knocked you on your ass.”

  “That’s because I was too busy looking at yours.”

  She giggled.

  “If you tell anyone a poodle took me down, I’ll deny it.”

  She laughed, then sobered, looking down at his crotch “I’m sorry you didn’t….”

  “I had no intention of doing anything other than getting you off.”

  “What,” she hissed. Those words hit her like a sledgehammer. She hadn’t affected him? She hadn’t moved him to want her? Was this just about methodically giving her what she wanted, so that she would back off? She wasn’t used to being in a position of doubt. And, for some really annoying and odd reason, tears lodged in her throat. It was totally out of character and completely out of her comfort zone. She had to get out of here.

  He saw the look on her face and he said. “I thought it would take the edge off.”

  “You ass.”

  “No, Harper,” he made a grab for her, but she scooted out of his reach, then he grunted in pain. Her first instinct was to help him, but when he pushed up, she cursed herself for a fool.

  She searched for a T-shirt, the tears starting to blind her.

  “Nice, thanks for making me feel cheap.” As the first tears started to fall, she was horrified. Why was she being so sensitive?

  “Fuck, Harper. That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know what you meant.” She brushed at the tears before turning around, but the tortured look in his eyes only made her feel more weak, more vulnerable. She dragged the T-shirt over her head, brushed past him and stormed out of the room.

  Harper fled from a confrontation for the first time in her life. She couldn’t seem to face him in this state. It was stupid and she hated that she’d reacted this way. She had to get herself under control. But even when she slammed into her room and started to strip, she couldn’t seem to stop the flow of tears.

  Vulnerability. That’s what this was. She’d tried to avoid ever being in this situation, but here she was, totally blindsided by her own needs and desires.

  She felt like she was waking up from a long and terrible slumber, like that of Sleeping Beauty. And to find out that she hadn’t affected him at all…well, that had implications for any further interaction with him. She wasn’t used to putting herself out there, to having her feelings out there for everyone to see. She buried them to keep herself safe from all the bastards who wanted to take advantage of her.

  As soon as she stepped into her shower, it was like a dam broke in her and she covered her face and wept openly, like she’d hadn’t cried since she’d heard that Aiden had been wounded, that Poe might never forgive her, or the day her mother died.

  Suddenly, with a heated curse, he was there, pulling her into his arms, wrapping her tight against him, and all she could think was that it felt so good. Her breasts connected with his hot, satiny skin and everything in her went liquid.

  “You’re getting soaked again,” she said inanely.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck.”

  He smoothed his hands over her wet hair.

  “I didn’t mean it that way, princess.” He kissed the top of her head. “I just can’t do you justice right now with this shoulder. I would be in pain…and that would be….it would be hurried…not comfortable…Geezus.”

  She looked up at him and that was it. That was the moment that her armor cracked from top to bottom. She tried to keep it from happening, but she felt completely unable to help herself where he was concerned. He was thinking about her…Oh, great, and here she was thinking about herself. “I’m such a selfish bitch.” It scared her down to her toes. She should have taken his advice and left the heated attraction between them alone. But she hadn’t wanted to. She still didn’t want to. “Oh, shut up and just kiss me.”

  He dropped his mouth to hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him like she never wanted to let him go. This was so crazy and out of control. His boss was waiting in the library, she was completely naked. Completely vulnerable, and although it scared the crap out of her, she wanted nothing more than to stand here and let him kiss her.

  She’d had no idea how lovely it would be to kiss a man with a beard, but it was, the feeling of the hair on his face as silky as his hot lips. And he was the type of guy who lost himself in the sensation. His eyes closed. His lips pressed against her mouth like there was no tomorrow. She was suddenly sure that he could care less that Tripp was waiting outside.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away.

  “Do you have condoms in here?”

  Her heart lurched against her chest. “What?”

  “Condoms?” he growled. “Now, Harper.”

  “No, I don’t have any in here, but I’m on the pill.”

  It seemed that was all he needed to hear. He pushed her up against the tile.

  “What about your shoulder?”

  “Fuck my shoulder. Take off my jeans.”

  She reached for his waistband, undoing the snap, moaning when her fingers brushed against his skin. Before she knew what she was doing, she pressed against the zipper to feel him pulse against her palm.

  “Harper,” he groaned, panting. “Do you want this to be over, princess? Geezus. You already have me jacked up so high, I swear I could come right now.”

  That declaration made her feel so much better. She pulled the zipper down, and he was hotter than the shower spray. She swallowed and gripped his hips, being very careful of his bruised one. The sight of the damage made her pause for a second. He covered her hands so gently. Unsettled with the way he grounded her.

  She closed her eyes. Oh, God. He balanced her, kept his hands there, firmly, but nothing more, as she struggled to get the soaked jeans off him. He did balance her, in every way, she thought, struggling for the clarity of mind she so desperately needed right now. “C-c-aleb, are you sure?” she stuttered, then stopped, taking him in. Good God he was so built, so cut, so beautiful. Willing her head to stop spinning, her legs to stop trembling, and her heart to stop pounding, she took a breath.

  But when she looked up, his gaze was intense, and as serious as she’d ever seen it. “Fuck no, but I can’t seem to give a damn,” he said, his voice satisfyingly unsteady.

  He touched her hair, then leaned down and kissed her, firmly, deeply. “I want you. Enough of these games.”

  She swallowed against a suddenly tight throat. “There are no guarantees—” she began, needing him to know she was making no promises here. She didn’t even know what she wanted.

  “I know. It’s my risk to take,” he told her.

  She stared at him, into eyes that held hers so solidly, with such certainty. “I want you so much.” she whispered. “So much.” She was quite aware that it was also her risk. But she couldn’t seem to care.

  His gaze hadn’t lessened one whit in intensity, so she felt caught in its laser-like gleam, shining directly, and only, on her.

  “No one has ever captivated me like you have,” she breathed. “I can’t get you out of my mind. This is happening. I’m not going to waste any opportunity to find out what more there might be.”

  She shoved the soaked jeans and his boxers the rest of the way off him, down his long, muscular legs. She wanted to look at him, but apparently he was at the end of his patience. He gripped her hips and dragged her against him, flush against the pulsing, silky hardness that pressed against her stomach. He pushed her back against the tiles.

  He made a soft sound of pain as he lifted her and she tried to help him as much as she could, but he grimaced when her leg went around his waist. “Caleb, maybe the bed will be easier.”


  “Too far away,” he groaned and she lost every thought in her head when he slid inside her and pumped deep. He was gloriously hard, gloriously large. He touched something deep inside her that shot sparks off inside of her with such an intense sensation she cried out. She was so ready for him, felt like she’d been ready for him her whole adult life.

  “Caleb, please,” she whispered, gasping when he withdrew and shoved in again and again. His mouth went to her neck, the silky stroke of his beard sending rippling waves of pleasure into the tips of her breasts mashed against his thick, hard pectorals and to her core.

  His panting breath blew hot against her neck. He sucked on her skin as he thrust deep again. Her groan mingled with his.

  “Princess…!”

  His body jerked at the same time that spiraling heat climbed to a breaking point and she convulsed, her hips jerking. He took her mouth this time like a man starved. There was nothing tender about it, and it mattered not a whit.

  She couldn’t allow herself to assign motivation or meaning to every little action he took, or reaction he might have. She could only let herself feel…whatever he made her feel. Then deal with the consequences afterward. Even as he pulled back, set her down, but kept her tight in his arms, she knew this was as big a mistake as she was ever likely to make. And it no longer mattered. If he was going to be a mistake, best she get on with it and start to deal with the implications, but telling herself she was tough enough to do anything else was simply putting off the inescapable.

  He gasped against her neck, and she had her fingers in his abundantly thick mane of wet, dark hair. “I want you again, Harper. I don’t want to let you go.”

  “I so wish Tripp wasn’t here,” she said, allowing the joy of the moment to push past the fear and anxiety, and holding on to that joy with everything she had.

  “He can go to hell,” he growled.

  She laughed, feeling suddenly, gloriously free. She had never felt as unfettered and unbound, and could hardly wait to explore this man. All of this man, inside and out.