Footsteps sounded and a warm wet hand cupped her breast. Kellie sighed and then moaned when he brushed his thumb over the nipple and sent instant pleasure into her bloodstream. So good to her, so intense and focused with everything he did.
“Bath time, Kellie.”
“Yes, Master.”
The sharp screech of the Velcro’s release contrasted with tender hands rubbing sensation back into her arms. Who could argue with submission when the rewards were a dominant’s constant concern and gentle care in the aftermath?
Strong arms scooped her up and she nuzzled the underside of his jaw on the way to the shower. Her Dom was an amazing lover, demanding and giving and satisfying. He gave her a sense of freedom from the world around them, a deep seated sense of happiness she hadn’t known existed before they met.
Her body slid down his in a slow glide until her feet met the floor of the huge shower. Mark never did anything halfway and the bath area was no slouch in the sinful arena. Multiple jets, a bench for sitting or steaming or sucking, and even a hook for dangling a lucky sub while he played.
“I love you, Kellie.”
Every functioning system in her body ground to an immediate halt. Her ears registered tense static even after her heart thudded back into some semblance of arrhythmia, and even when her breath evened out, her chest kept pounding. Unsure of his intent, she kept her eyes and mouth closed while he positioned her on the bench and added shampoo to her hair.
The ‘I love you’ phrase wasn’t one either of them used on a regular basis, opting instead to show their feelings with a more kinesthetic approach. Months had passed since the phrase had been spoken. Months of pleasure, of sensual communion, and of down and dirty fun, but that particular phrase hadn’t flowed between them.
Now she waited for the but to be added, as in I love you but I want to see other women, or I love you but it’s time to set you free. Holding her breath wasn’t an option at the moment, no matter what the circumstance, so she forced what was hanging tight in her lungs to move. Paranoia and a distinct lack of self-confidence parked in the back of her head while his fingers worked magic on her scalp. Maybe she was wrong. It was just sex talk. Or orgasm talk. Maybe he thought she needed to hear it. Or maybe she needed to shut off the stream of bad karma and reconnect with the moment. With Mark.
His hands worked up and down the back of her neck and a moan slipped free, carrying a little of her inner tension with it. “Mmm, feels good.”
A repetition followed, then another, with a soft chuckle. His I’m-spoiling-you-rotten tone easing a smidge more of her anxiety. “Eyes closed.”
Warm water cascaded over her, washing away the shampoo and a little more of her uneasiness. A towel pressed against her face, Mark’s fingers gentle while drying her eyes. He pulled her hair back, the tugs adding a different pleasure-pressure sensation while he squeezed the water out and wrapped the towel around her head.
”Stand up for me, little one.”
Blinking a drop of water away, she stood and he immediately grabbed another soft towel to blot the moisture from her face.
“So damn beautiful, Kellie. You take my breath away every day.”
Her Dom pressed a kiss to her forehead and reached for one of the terry robes hanging outside the wet zone. Ensconced in the thick fabric, she waited while he tied his own robe. Talk about beautiful. The man was more than she’d ever dreamed of, sexy as hell, voracious as a lover, and downright gorgeous when he dressed up. The dominance she’d feared at the beginning of their relationship had morphed into a freedom she never expected.
“Breakfast time, Kellie. I selected something special for you today.”
The last lingering bit of anxiety disappeared on the way to the dining room. Once there, her breath caught. Mrs. Pine had outdone herself. A full half of what was a rather large table was filled with pastries, overflowing bowls of fresh cut fruit, and a stack of pancakes warming in a glass-topped tray. The scent had her stomach growling with greed while she mentally thanked her mother for the fast metabolism she’d passed along.
“Mark, this is amazing. Thank you.” She leaned into him for a kiss and a hug. “Did I miss an anniversary?”
“No, not yet.” He reached into the floral arrangement and extracted a velvet pouch. His smile flared when he put it in her hand.
Her heart jerked to a stop.
“Open it.”
Fingers too fat to work fumbled with the string for a long minute before she could tip the open bag. The contents spilled into her palm and the air in her chest turned to sand.
“Marry me, Kellie.”
Chapter 13
Jake came out of a deep sleep in a rush. The only part of his body responding to the potential threat was his heart, the acceleration loud in his eardrums. He slit his eyes and recognized the hazy darkness of Lizette’s bedroom. A strange repetitive sound broke the silence but nothing moved. Sliding his hand across the bed verified he was alone.
He fished his boxers up from off the floor and pulled them on as he got to his feet. Once he pushed the bedroom door open, he had enough ambient light to locate her.
She was in a big empty room at the front of the house. Hard to say what the space was designed for, since boxes were stacked along one wall and only a few pieces of furniture were evident. Probably a formal living room at one time.
The woman standing center stage was all he wanted to see, anyway. An absolute beauty even though she was fully clothed in denim. A heavy hat sat on her head, the string tied under her chin.
The shift and sway of her body as she worked the whip was a dance of her own making, a dance so provocative that he couldn’t look away. She wouldn’t appreciate an audience, but he was willing to chance exposure, and her wrath, to watch her exercise unfold.
Jake tucked his body into a dark shadow of the room, far enough away to be safe from the lick of her whip and out of her sightline. It was as far as he’d go, the lure too heady to forget. If they continued on the path they’d discussed, at some point he’d be the victim of her whip. He could hear Mark in his head, warning him off, asking if he was truly willing to let a woman cut him with a whip.
Liz switched hands with a cute little twist of her body and he got a look at what she’d been attempting. A large stuffed bear sat on the floor in front of her. A target, judging by the strips of bare fabric on it. The whip flicked at it again and the toy rocked as contact was made, but there wasn’t a mark on the fabric.
She was good.
A random thought blindsided him. Where did she learn how to do this? And who did she use to practice? Was there another man in her life? Was he interfering? The thought of another man touching her burned a hole in his heart even as he acknowledged his lack of rights in this relationship.
They were friends. No, not really friends, more like acquaintances who were having wild sex a few times on their way to other lovers.
Trying to put a label on what was happening between them made his head ache, not to mention his cock. Something deeper was brewing between them, a real connection he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge until here and now. He was out of his head when she was near and he had yet to decide if it was good or bad.
Time to back the hell out of the room and leave her to her dance while he got his head together in private. Cohabitating and separating his heart from his body would be a bitch for the next few days, but falling any deeper would only hurt the both of them in the long run.
He slid one foot across the floor at a time, slow and steady on the way to the door he’d entered. The predictable pace of the cracking whip helped hide his movements until he inadvertently hit a weak board in the floor. The resounding squeak had Lizette spinning around to face him, her whip coming to rest inches from his bare foot.
“What are you doing in here?”
Face flushed with exertion and a hint of embarrassment, she was one damn beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who’d been caught out of bed and unsure of how her practice session would be judged
. It was all there in her expression, or rather the dip of her chin. The tug on the bottom of her denim jacket said more than words. Made him feel like a damn voyeur.
“I heard a noise and you were gone. I followed the sound and couldn’t stop watching.”
“Yeah, well. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You’re exquisite. The way you move as you work the whip–it’s like a dance.”
The pink on her cheeks darkened.
“I didn’t want to interrupt. You’re very good. How long have you been working with the whip?” The need to move the conversation to a more neutral platform pushed at him. They’d talked about it, but at the time, he’d been focused on other issues. Besides, the flush on her cheeks wasn’t solely from exertion. Some was due to his compliment. Embarrassed wasn’t something a woman like Lizette would want to be and he sure didn’t want to be the man who pushed that button for her. Every fiber of his being stayed tight until her shoulders settled and a small sigh left her lips.
So far, the only injuries I’ve inflicted are to my own body.”
“Ouch.”
She gifted him with another warm smile and he came close to passing out from the lack of oxygen in his brain. “Wait. Mildred is teaching you?” Damn. Had he missed this piece of information, too? Or had he let the mind-melting sex erase part of his brain? “Mildred, the acerbic Brit working for Mark?”
With a surprising giggle, she said, “One and the same. I had a hard time buying it at first, but she’s a master in every way.”
“This I have to see.”
Lizette laughed outright and the last barrier around his heart tumbled into ashes. Damn fool heart needed a swift kick. This was no time to roll over and die.
“Time for coffee. Want some?” He stuck out his hand and she took it, laying the whip on the wooden floor like a long blacksnake, the handle nestled against the baseboard and the opening into the hall.
“Shouldn’t you coil it up like the cowboys always do in the movies?”
“No,” she said. “The best way to store it is flat and uncoiled. If it needs to be put away for a long period of time, it should be loosely coiled and boxed in tissue. Or so Mildred says.”
“Hmm. Am I going to be competing with Mildred for your attention now?”
Her hand slid over his bare shoulder. “No, sweetness. I’ll continue to take care of your needs.”
“Is that right? Maybe I have needs now.” Man, he liked her in this mood. He leaned in for a kiss and her cell rang. He didn’t like the look on her face when she turned the thing over to see the caller.
“Dispatch. Guess Captain didn’t let everyone know I was off this week.” She hit answer and he stood close to listen even after her raised brow.
“Son of a bitch.”
He didn’t need to hear the conversation to know it was bad news. Her face and body tensed like a rubber band wrapped around a pipe.
“Well, at least it was insured. Thanks for letting me know, Anna.” The careful way she set the phone on the counter hit him hard. He’d never seen her this upset, even when her witness had been killed. She paused in the kitchen doorway, her back to him. “Go ahead and make your coffee. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Where are you going?” Talking to her back while she went down the hall was bullshit. He followed without initiating conversation and took his cues from her body language. She dressed in shorts, sneakers, and some formfitting contraption that held her breasts tight to her body. He couldn’t give it a name but he liked the look. For himself, he grabbed a pair of shorts and made fast work of getting shoes on. She wouldn’t leave him behind if he could help it.
Her house was one of a dozen or so homes spread out over a few acres. Lots of trees and open green space gave the workout a charm he didn’t have at home. The pervasive quiet was a balm as they ran side by side while the sun rose over the trees.
“Can you tell me what upset you?” he asked when they dropped into a walk heading home.
“My car was towed to a dealership for repairs yesterday. Last night, someone broke into the place and trashed it. Sliced all four tires, ripped up the upholstery, and screwed with the engine.”
“Damn.”
They turned into her driveway and stopped under a wide oak tree to let the morning breeze finish their cooldown.
“I loved that car. It was the first brand new car I ever owned, paid for by my hard-earned money.”
“Why didn’t the place have it locked up?”
The look she gave him broke his heart.
“They did. My car was the only one touched. The kicker? They had two hot properties in the other bays, a Mercedes and a sixties-era Mustang. Both sat untouched while they shredded my little car.”
Every nerve in his body flicked into high alert. “It was personal. This isn’t about me or the terrorist group. Someone is after you with a hard on.” Forcing a smile when all he wanted to do was lock her in the bedroom and keep her safe, he said, “Who did you piss off this week, Lizzie?”
Right on time, her mood switched to Domme mode.
“Lizette or Mistress. Nothing else.” She unlocked the kitchen door and nudged him inside. “Now, put the coffee on and take care of my needs like a good man-toy.”
He followed directions, filling the coffeemaker and keeping track of her from the corner of his eye. And what a beautiful sight to behold. She stripped out of her shoes and clothes before sliding her perky ass on the kitchen table. Her bare foot tapped the seat of the chair in front of her.
“Sit, Jake. Have a snack before breakfast and make it good.”
He leaned in close as she spread her knees and lay back on her elbows. He pressed an openmouthed kiss to her right knee and sucked hard, marking her before moving an inch higher on her thigh. One kiss at a time, he moved closer to her center and when he was within nose length of nirvana, he skipped to her left knee.
“Cheeky bastard,” she sighed. “I might have to punish you later.”
Not angry and no longer upset, she looked relaxed and soft, every delicious inch of skin glowing with sensuality. Leaving her would be impossible when this job ended. This was more than he ever expected to find in a woman, in a relationship. Somehow he’d make it work for them when the threat was negated. Time to leave his past behind and find a different future.
If she’d have him.
His mouth skimmed the area adjacent to her wet pussy, one more kissable spot before the promise land, and a hard hand dropped onto his head.
Fingernails scored his scalp and burrowed into his hair. “Don’t even think about retreating.”
He tried not to smile, kept his head bent to keep her from seeing his expression. He knew exactly how she felt. “No, ma’am.”
Chapter 14
The grumbling of her stomach woke Lizette around eleven. Rays of sunshine poured in through the high windows and highlighted the bed-head of the man next to her. He was still in a deep sleep after breakfast had turned into an erotic scene in the kitchen. Watching him eat her made the thought of him leaving akin to losing her mind. He was more than she’d expected in a non-submissive man. Sure, he’d played along with the theory of submission and let her lead but she knew it wasn’t his preference.
Keeping him around when the semester, and his extra job, ended would be impossible. His life was elsewhere while hers was in Texas. Different climate. Different culture.
An emotional connection wouldn’t change those things.
She reached over and put her fingers in his riot of a hairstyle, gently this time. Teasing wasn’t something she did much, hadn’t wanted, but he changed her mind. God, he had gorgeous hair, thick light brown waves falling every which way across his scalp after their romp.
He blinked up at her with sleepy eyes and groaned. “Is it possible to die from too much sex?”
“My poor little G-man.” She stroked his hair a little more, then massaged his scalp. “Are you all worn out?”
He slung an arm across her body and pull
ed her closer to his torso. “Depends. What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
Another groan, louder this time, but his eyes never left hers. “Give me a few minutes. I can be ready again. Or at least, take care of you.”
She had to laugh, his expression so earnest in making sure she’d had enough sex. “Thanks for the offer, but right now I need food more than anything.”
“Thanks. Wasn’t sure I’d be up for much more, but I hate to disappoint my woman.”
At a loss for words, Liz kissed his forehead and scooted out of bed. “I’m going to jump in the shower. Won’t take long and then I’ll put something together while you wash up.”
What a chicken-shit response to such sweet words. The my woman thing was just an expression, nothing more or less, but still managed to chase her out of the room. So much for her Domme reputation. Flipping the lever to hot, she jumped in, scrubbed, and got out in a hurry. Shades of her military background mixed with her panic at the building relationship.
Jake was still in her bed, eyes closed, and she kept quiet, dressing in jeans and a pullover shirt before waking him.
“Just resting my eyes while you showered,” he injected into the silence.
With no energy to argue or even talk much, she laughed off his comment and went to the kitchen. Dumping the coffee pot, she put on fresh and dug through the fridge for real food.
A quick call to Private Delights got her an appointment with Mildred, a good way to spend time with a little space between her and the man in her shower. The whip mistress was a perfect buffer.
Sausage was almost ready and eggs were cooking when Jake made his appearance. She pressed her thighs together without thought, a reflex she hadn’t had in too many years to count, and when she realized what she’d done, Liz took a healthy dose of hot coffee and willed her body to relax.
Whip Me Up Tie Me Down Page 9
