The Ultimate Romantic Suspense Set (8 romantic suspense novels from 8 bestselling authors for 99c)

by Lee Taylor

  "Shall I say it louder?" he teased.

  She shook her head. "Michael."

  Fortunately, her bag appeared on the conveyor belt at that moment. She pointed. "There. That's mine with the RWA tag."

  "What's RWA stand for?"

  "Romance Writers of America."

  He rolled his eyes. "Should've known," he said, then strode over to retrieve the bag.

  "My car's in the parking lot. I'll have you home in no time."

  "You don't even know where I live."

  "Of course I do. I used to be a cop, remember? But I'm taking you to my house."

  She stopped dead in her tracks. "That's not a good idea."

  He put his hand on her neck, brushing his thumb over her jaw. "Are you tired after your long journey?"

  The touch of his warm fingers on her nape was hypnotic. She hunched her shoulders, chewing her bottom lip. "Yes."

  "Then let me take care of you tonight. Tomorrow is Sunday. We can sleep in, then talk about the future. Okay?"

  A night spent cuddling with Michael sounded better than returning to her lonely apartment. "Will Binky and Bonky be there?"

  He frowned. "Who?"

  "Your chihuahuas."

  He laughed. "You mean Maxie and Minnie. No, they're at Linda's. She won't let me anywhere near them after the fiasco of the Dog Show. She even blames me for the fact they were left in the backyard, claiming she never said she'd take them to the kennel. There's no winning with that woman."

  "Well--"

  He touched his forehead to hers. "Admit it. You want to come home with me."

  She nodded.

  He kissed her nose, took her hand, and led the way to his car.

  ~~~

  Jessie's mouth fell open. "I didn't notice this when I was here before."

  Michael was glad he'd spent two days cleaning and refilling his hot tub in preparation for the first time Jessie used it. He stood behind her, his arms around her waist. "I have only one rule for this tub."

  She pressed her head back against his shoulder. "Rule?"

  "Japanese style," he explained, trying to keep the teasing out of his voice.

  It took her a minute, but then she giggled. "I suppose that's so the filter won't get clogged with lint from bathing suits?"

  Still feigning seriousness, he added, "And soap residue. Creates a real problem with foam."

  She laughed out loud, sending ripples of contentment through him. He loved making her happy. "So we'll take off our clothes--"

  "Here?"

  He held up his forefinger, wiggled his eyebrows, then sauntered over to a wooden cabinet on the side wall by the tub. Inside was a breaker panel. He flicked a switch and held out his hand. "Voilà!"

  Predictably, Jessie was delighted with the overhead infra red heaters installed over the area adjacent to the tub. "You've thought of everything."

  He pretended to scowl. "You've thought of everything, sir."

  She glanced away.

  "Having second thoughts, Jessie?" He held his breath.

  "No, having a Dom is something I suppose I've wanted for a long time, but I'm nervous about it. I hardly know you."

  He brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek. "You know me, Jessie. A lot of this is new territory for me too. Anita's health was too precarious and I was too unsure of myself. Linda wasn't interested in anything the least bit erotic. I don't want a slave to torture. I want a willing slave, in bed. We'll learn together."

  He paused. Would she remember?

  ~~~

  Michael had started talking again while he undressed; something about wanting to learn what pleased her and what didn't, but a cold certainty had seized her brain and her body.

  We'll learn together.

  It was Michael who'd flogged her.

  She panicked that if he'd figured it out, he might think flogging and pain was something she was into. It wasn't, although the experience had given her one of the most intense orgasms she'd ever had. But was it the flogging that had brought that about, or some chemistry existing between her and Michael before they even knew each other?

  Should she say something? Perhaps she was wrong, then he'd think she was into all kinds of kinky things at Scallywags. A lead weight pressed on her lungs.

  "Get undressed, Jessie. You need to relax. It's okay."

  He knows.

  How long has he known?

  Did he know that night who I was?

  Did Frank tell him?

  Did he coerce Gary into getting us together?

  "Jessie! Your mind is working a mile a minute. Stop! Take off your clothes and get in."

  Michael stood naked in the tub, Michelangelo's David, holding out his hand, steam billowing around him. His tone of voice brooked no argument or hesitation.

  "Yes, sir."

  She undressed while he watched, chilled in spite of the heaters, then accepted his hand and climbed over the side of the tub. He put his hands on her hips and nestled her into the hot water. He sat in one of the corner seats and pulled her between his legs, his arms around her waist. "Better?" he asked.

  The shock of the hot water calmed her. Michael was right. She was over-analyzing and allowing her fear to take away the pleasure. She relaxed against him. "Yes, sir. Much better."

  ~~~

  In one way Michael was relieved that Jessie had finally figured it out, but hoped it wouldn't complicate things more. He decided to simply force her to relax. She'd had a long day. He'd broach the subject of Scallywags when they talked about boundaries and he gave her the collar.

  After the hot tub, he planned to wrap her in a bathrobe, carry her to the shower, wash her hair and bathe her, then tuck her into bed and cuddle all night. It had been his privilege to do the same for Anita as her illness progressed.

  If Jessie wanted to make love, he'd be ready of course, but if not, he'd hold her against him, skin to skin, savoring her warmth.

  He'd been given a rare gift, one he intended to hold on to with both hands. But Jessie had to grant him the power. One step at a time, or he'd scare her away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jessie stretched awake the next morning, frowning when she realized Michael was lying on his side, watching her, looking slightly amused. Her body heated. "What? Was I snoring?"

  "You snore?" he asked with mock dismay.

  "Doesn't everyone once they reach forty?"

  His eyes widened in alarm. "You're over forty?"

  He pretended to wince when she thumped his shoulder. "Ouch! For an old lady you sure pack a punch."

  She shrieked when he lunged for her, tickling her ribs. "I give, I give. Stop!"

  "Stop what?"

  "Stop, sir, please," she begged breathlessly.

  They cuddled together, catching their breath. It had been a long time since Jessie had felt so content. "Thank you for taking care of me last night. It was like having my own personal spa. I guess I fell asleep before--"

  He put his forefinger on her lips. "We don't have to make love all the time, although I did miss you. It was my pleasure to take care of you. I'll do it for as long as you'll let me."

  This was all going too fast. "Michael, you seem so sure about all this."

  He didn't reply for several minutes, then got up and walked to a chest of drawers. She noticed for the first time the dimples in his gorgeous butt, endearingly white compared to the rest of his bronzed body.

  He came back with a box. Had he bought her a gift?

  He sat cross legged in front of her, nodding to indicate she sit across from him. Try as she might, her legs and hips refused to cooperate. Her knees stuck up in the air, miles away from the bed. Michael sat like a yogi, knees touching the mattress, back ramrod straight, looking mildly amused. Her inelegant posture exposed her intimate parts to his gaze. "I'm not very flexible," she said.

  There was no censure in his eyes. "We'll work on that, but there are perks to this position. Another shave might be needed tonight, perhaps?"

  God!
With just a few words he could set her on fire.

  He put the box between them. "For you."

  She stared at the square red box, a lump rising in her throat when she recognised the logo on one corner of the lid--Scallywags.

  She glanced up at him sharply, her eyes darting from his face to his already hard penis.

  "Open it."

  Her mind went into overdrive. It was a flogger. She was sure. How to tell him?

  "Open it."

  It seemed to take an eternity to get her suddenly useless fingers to ease off the lid. She stared at the contents, her heart beating wildly. Relief collided with confusion and uncertainty.

  Michael lifted the beautiful object from the box as if it was a priceless work of art. He held it out to her like a sacred offering. "I want you to wear this."

  Jessie knew enough about Doms and Subs that she understood fully the implications of the piece. She looked into his eyes. "You want me to wear your collar."

  "I know you understand what that means. It's a contract between the two of us, a visible symbol that you belong to me, and that I'll do everything in my power to protect and take care of you."

  She picked up the lid, scarcely able to breathe. "It's from Scallywags."

  "You recognize the logo."

  "Yes," she whispered.

  He nestled the collar back in the box. "We'll talk about that before we go any further."

  Her heart sank. Her instinct was to accept his collar, be his Submissive, let him take care of her, but there were so many unknowns, and no mention of love. And then there was Scallywags. How to explain it? "I need to tell you--"

  Michael held up his hand. "Stop, Jessie. That night at the club was one of the most sexually arousing experiences I've ever had. Don't spoil it by--"

  Jessie's heart did a little flip. She put her finger on Michael's lips. "Say that again, sir."

  His blue eyes bored into her. "You felt it too?"

  The words tumbled out of her mouth. "You rocked my world, Michael. At first I couldn't believe being restrained and flogged got me so excited, but now I think it was your presence that aroused me, your scent, the feel of your hand on me, the sound of your voice."

  He chuckled. "My scent? I was sweating like a pig I was so nervous."

  "It was healthy male sweat though, and something lemony."

  "Ah! My cologne. Acqua di Parma."

  She leaned over to rub her nose against his neck. "Nice."

  He put his arms around her and they held on to each other for long minutes, his strong heart beating a tattoo that thrummed through her body. She put her hand on his arousal. "When you pressed against me and asked if I wanted a finger I nearly screamed out that I wanted your big cock in me."

  Michael's breathing had become labored, his body warmer. He removed her hand from his erection. "We're getting sidetracked. Are you ready to accept my collar?"

  Stalling for time, she said, "I was afraid it was a flogger in the box."

  "No. That's in another box. But don't worry about that now." He lifted the collar again. "Yes or no?"

  ~~~

  Michael's heart and gut were in knots. If he didn't know better he'd have thought he was having another heart attack. It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell Jessie he loved her. He'd only ever said that once before, to Anita just before she breathed her last breath.

  They'd married young and struggled on his police wages for several years, then, instead of a solution to their problems conceiving, she'd been diagnosed. The cancer had ravaged her slowly, obscenely. He'd told her he loved her because he wanted those to be the last words she heard. Everyone should believe themselves loved at the hour of their death.

  He and Linda had never been in love. Damned if he could explain what had brought them together. Grief? Loneliness?

  But now he knew the pain and pleasure of love--a soul deep longing to fulfill all of Jessie's needs, and for her to fulfill his. However, he needed her commitment if their relationship was to continue along the path he hoped.

  His cock turned to iron when she took the choker from him and came to her feet beside the bed, smiling. "I think the protocol is that you put it on me."

  He was afraid the collar might slip through his trembling fingers. "It will be my honor."

  He hopped off the bed and took the choker from her. He jiggled the tiny key attached to the front. "This unclasps like so."

  The fastener sprang open when he fitted the key into the concealed lock. He inhaled a deep breath as she turned her back to him. He put the collar around her neck, feeling like a medieval knight bestowing a priceless treasure on his noble lady. He pressed the two halves of the closure together. The lock snapped in place.

  Mine.

  He kissed the back of her neck, then massaged his fingers into the taut muscles of her shoulders. They stood in silence. His heart was so full he couldn't speak. It was a moment he'd yearned for, a moment that held more significance for him than exchanging wedding rings with either wife.

  Jessie turned, looking apprehensive. "How does it look, sir?"

  He wanted to fall on his knees and kiss her feet in gratitude, but that wouldn't be Dom behavior. "I'm pleased, Jessie. More than you can know." He cleared his throat in an effort to dislodge the lump there. "I expect you to wear this symbol of my ownership when we're out together, or when you go anywhere there might be other men. Or whenever I ask you to wear it."

  She gazed into his eyes. A trace of uncertainty lingered in those dark depths. She touched her fingertips to the collar. "I'll wear it, sir, but when I go home, how will I remove it, for sleeping?"

  He retrieved the key from his bedside table and reattached it to the collar. "You won't be living there much longer. I'm giving you the key until you trust me enough to give it into my safekeeping."

  ~~~

  Jessie's knees went weak with relief, but she tensed again at Michael's next words. "Speaking of punishment--"

  He went to retrieve another box from his closet. This one was too long to be a flogger. Anxiety throbbed low in her belly, and another sensation, touched off by the glint in Michael's eyes. He tore open the end of the box and tipped it upside down. Arousal spiralled out of control when she recognized the object that fell out onto the bed.

  It was a spreader.

  "You disobeyed my command to keep your legs open. You hoped I'd forgotten, or that I would overlook your disobedience." He smiled. "As you see, Jessie, I haven't forgotten, and I don't intend to overlook it."

  "Yes, sir," was all she could manage to squeeze out of her dry mouth. The spreader was at least two and a half feet long, made of some stiff black fabric. With her ankles fastened into restraints at each end she'd be immobile like on the St. Andrew's Cross. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation.

  "I'm going to attach this to your ankles. You'll lean over the bed with your hands over your head. I'll play for a while, but you're not allowed to come until I give permission. Then, I'll sink my dick into you and fuck you from behind. Do you understand?"

  Hurry! Quick! Do it.

  "I understand, sir."

  "One more thing. I've decided that Jessie isn't a suitable name for a Sub. From now on, you'll be Puss-puss when we play."

  The body part referred to pulsated with delight. "Yes, sir."

  He stroked her hair. "Lean over the bed and spread your legs, Puss-puss."

  How was she going to not come? It was ironic--she'd had so few good climaxes in her life, now she was teetering on the edge already and he hadn't touched her yet. She had no experience controlling orgasms.

  But he was hard and ready too. He'd be delaying his own release if he played with her.

  She lay down on her tummy on the high bed, interlaced her fingers together over her head, and opened her legs. Michael gave her upended bottom a playful smack. "That's my girl."

  How could she not have remembered sooner?

  "I suppose we should have a safe word, Puss-puss, until you learn to trust me. Choose one now." />
  Her mind whirled. She was hot. Red was hot. Red meant stop, but it wasn't her own word. She was a true blue fan of the Vancouver Canucks hockey team. They were arch rivals of the Calgary Flames. A flame was hot. Calgary's team wore red jerseys.

  "Come on, Puss-puss. We don't have all day." He chuckled. "Actually, it's Sunday, we do, but--"

  "Calgary Flames, sir" she blurted out.

  "Calgary Flames?" he asked with a hint of amused disbelief in his voice. "That's your safe word?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Okay, then."

  He quickly attached the fastenings at one end of the spreader to her ankle. "It's made of neoprene. It won't hurt you."

  She'd noticed two more cuffs built into the spreader, closer together--wrist restraints. Another jolt of arousal arrowed its way into her core at the thought of how vulnerable she'd be when Michael took things a step further and restrained her hands and feet in the spreader.

  As promised, there was no discomfort around her ankle, but he gently urged her legs further apart. "Wider, love," he said, then fastened the other end. She'd never been so exposed to a man's view. She heard him kneel, felt his breath on her bottom. Her throbbing pussy ejected warm liquid.

  "Beautiful, Puss-puss. Let me spread those juices."

  Her body jerked when his finger slid along one outer lip then the other, but she controlled the urge to moan his name. He hadn't given permission.

  "You're so fucking wet, Puss-puss."

  If she could just close her legs and clamp his finger to her throbbing clit--

  He slid two fingers inside her. The muscles of her pussy clenched on him, drawing him deeper. He hooked his fingers to massage her G Spot. She cried out involuntarily, her body on fire, sweating. He smacked her bottom, hard enough so she felt it. "Sorry, sir."

  "Be patient, Puss-puss. That's only two fingers. I know you can take three."

  "Yes, sir."

  He withdrew his fingers, then put both hands on her bottom, pulling her cheeks apart, his thumbs opening her back passage to his view. "Lovely rosette," he rasped.

  She tensed. Anal penetration wasn't in her playbook in any way, shape or form. She clenched the muscles there involuntarily.