by Avril Ashton
****
He walked into her office later that morning, decision made. First though, he had to get some things clarified. A receptionist looked up at him from her computer screen.
“Good morning, sir. Do you have an appointment?” She got to her feet with a smile.
“No.” He shook his head. “Is Ms. Lively in?” He looked around and took a step toward a closed office door off to the left of the receptionist’s station.
“Sir, I’m sorry you can’t go in there without an appointment.”
He didn’t look back at her, snorting at her hurried footsteps behind him. “I’m sure Ms. Lively won’t mind.” He opened the door.
Elliot sat behind a huge desk, shoulders hunched while scribbling on a notepad. She jerked upright when he pushed his way inside, eyes widening.
“Hello, pretty Elliot.”
Her mouth opened then snapped shut. The surprise on her face disappeared like it’d never been. Matter of fact, all expression leached from her face until only a cold blank slate stared back at him.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Lively,” the receptionist stammered. “He just—barged in.”
Elliot broke eye contact with him and cracked a brittle smile at her employee. “It’s okay, Sharon, I’ve got this.” She put down the pen and notepad. “Please close the door on your way out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sharon beat a hasty retreat, the door closing quietly behind her.
Jud stood near the door, arms folded, and took in Elliot. His memory from the night at the bar must have been fucked up, because she was even more gorgeous. Smooth dark skin, too wide eyes, and a small nose, full lips with only a hint of a shine. The hair was the same, the bangs falling into her right eye. He only had a visual of her upper body now, but he took notice of the white blouse stretched over her generous tits, and the flowery scarf wrapped around her neck.
He frowned at that. It was damn near seventy degrees outside, not exactly scarf weather.
“How can I help you, Mr. Kincaid?” Ice in that voice, almost like she’d forgotten begging him to hurt her, assault her only nights before. He should refresh her memory.
“I came to see if you’d gotten what you were looking for.” He jerked his chin at the scarf. “I’m guessing yes.”
Her mouth tightened slightly, the only outward sign of any kind of emotion from her. “I fail to see how that concerns you at this point, Mr. Kincaid.” She pushed her hair away from her face. “If memory serves—and trust me, my memory is like a steel trap—you turned down my proposal.” She met his eyes. One side of her mouth curved in a taunting smile. “I found somebody else who didn’t hesitate to give me what I wanted.”
He nodded and moved forward. She watched him, tense, until he sat in the chair opposite. “What did you do?”
She raised an eyebrow, and he clarified. “What did you do, or think you did, that makes you seek punishment in such a dangerous way?”
She shut down. It was a physical thing the way her body retreated from him, and he felt the coldness. “Is that why you’re here, Mr. Kincaid? To question me?”
“Jud.”
Her gaze narrowed.
“My name is Jud. I know you know it, so use it.” He made it a command and watched fire spark, then blaze in her eyes. His rough command turned her on, and seeing that, his cock ached. His body pulsed. Shit.
“Jud.” Her lips trembled, not too obvious, but he watched her closely, so he made out the faint wobble. “Jud, it’s a waste of time trying to get me to tell you my life story.” She sat back. “Why are you here?”
“I want to know why you approached me at the bar,” he said. “I want to know why you thought it was okay.”
She glanced away. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have—”
“No,” he said. She froze. “Tell me why, Elliot.”
Her nostrils flared. Her gaze dropped to her lap then back to him. “I, uh, I saw the way you dealt with the customers, especially the drunk ones. A few of them pushed you, like they wanted you hit them, but you didn’t. You wanted to, I saw that, but you controlled yourself. You took a breath, and you dealt with them.”
“I did hit Perry.”
She nodded. “Yes, but even then you were in control. You could have gone harder on him than you did. You know your strength, so it doesn’t control you.”
He digested her words. “That’s it? That was all it took to make you think I would be open to your proposal?”
“The other night was—” She swallowed. “It was a bad night for me. I’d stopped going out to look for it.” She licked her lips. Her voice broke when she said, “The time before then had been a month or so ago, and I was—I ended up in the ER with a broken arm and bruised ribs.”
“Jesus, Elliot!” The words exploded from him.
She jerked as if slapped, shame filling her eyes. “I tried to stop then, but I … I can’t sleep unless I get it. I can’t function.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. She slapped at them angrily. “I had to have it, and that’s why I went out the other night. The plan was to find the first available guy, but then I saw you, and I just…” She sighed. “I watched you all night. My gut said you were the right guy. I figured I’d offer up money. Who doesn’t like money? A month seemed like a reasonable amount of time to see if we could work out, because I’m tired of going out looking for it. I want something stable.”
He refrained from snorting. What she described was anything but stable. “What about a significant other?”
She shrugged. “I’ve stayed away from relationships. They hold no interest to me..”
“Why choking?”
Her throat worked. It took a while, but she finally answered in a voice so low, he had to lean forward to catch the words. “It’s the only way I can get aroused. The way I can reach climax.” Wringing her wrists, she looked away.
Jud stared at her, at the forlorn expression on her face. He recalled the shame and pain in her eyes when she’d made her proposal. “Remove the scarf.” He made his voice hard, harsh, issuing the command that brooked nothing other than immediate compliance.
She obeyed, but didn’t look at him. Despite her skin color, he had no problem seeing the thick dark bruise that wrapped all the way around her neck like a collar. He got to his feet and went to her, dropping on his knees when she made room for him.
“What made this?” He touched her skin with the pad of a hesitant finger.
She inhaled sharply. “Leather belt.” She shook violently. “He buckled it around me and pulled.” Her voice dropped to a thin thread of sound, shuddering. “He pulled on it as I sucked him, as he fucked me.”
He cursed viciously.
“No. I wanted it. It’s what I want, Jud. It’s what I need.”
“Fuck.” He palmed her throat lightly. She trembled for him, wide eyes holding him in place. He applied a little pressure. “This, Elliot? This is what you want?”
“Yes.” She hissed and shifted, legs falling open. He got a whiff of it, her arousal, wafting to him from her parted thighs. “Jud.”
He squeezed her again, harder this time. Her pupils dilated. “I’ve decided to take you up on your proposal, Elliot.”
The pulse under his palm galloped. Her scent grew deeper, sharper. He leaned forward and nuzzled her cheek, ignoring his own hard dick pressing against his zipper. There’d be some marks on his flesh later, no doubt.
“I’ll give you what you need,” he whispered to her, loving the way she shuddered. “Only me,” he growled, “no one else.”
“Yes.” She bucked against him.
Thumb against her wind pipe, he trailed his free hand up her thigh and under her skirt. Damp heat greeted him. Elliot lifted her hips, and he touched her pussy, eyes sliding closed at the slickness. He applied more pressure to her throat. She gushed for him, cream flowing onto his fingers. She remained calm, barely moving, until he pushed a finger, then two, inside her. Only then did the hand she’d laid on his arm grab him, nails biting in.
He held her steady with the weight on her throat, just enough to mess with her breathing. Elliot was different, fragile, but strong enough to know what she wanted. He held her tighter and tighter while finger-fucking her. Whimpers fell from her lips. Her eyes were closed, the most serene expression on her face. He plunged three digits back inside her, twisted them hard. She arched, muscles spasming as she came. He gave her more pressure on her neck, then eased back, pulling out of her clenching cunt.
He sat back on his haunches and watched her. From the faraway look in her eyes when her lashes lifted, she’d gotten what she needed. He licked her cream off his fingers and adjusted his hard-on.
“Are you okay?” He sounded like he’d consumed a meal of rusted nails.
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “Thank you.”
“Let’s clear some things up.” He stood on shaking legs and sat at the edge of her desk. “I don’t want your money, so you can keep that.”
Confusion darkened her eyes. “Then why?”
“I’ll stick with the one month time frame, but with the understanding we will renegotiate after that time is up. Deal?”
She cocked her head to side. Clearly she had no idea where he was going, but nodded anyway. “Deal.”
“Good.” He cupped her cheek. “Like I said before, from this point on, I’ll be the only one satisfying your needs. No one else.”
She nodded again.
“I’m not doing this for money, but I do want something in return.” He gave her the opportunity to ask what. She didn’t disappoint.
“What do you want, Jud?” Steel crept back into her tone.
“Two things actually.” The words surprised him. He hadn’t known he wanted more until that moment. “There will be more than me choking you into orgasm. I’ll be fucking you, using you, and most importantly, making love to you.”
The frown said she didn’t get it.
“We’ll see each other outside of the bedroom, Elliot. Go to dinner, do the usual dating stuff.”
She shook her head sharply. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Jud, I don’t date.” She sounded stressed. “I can’t.”
“Why, because you need a bully in the bedroom?” He lifted a brow. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m here, agreeing to be that. But I also want to know you.” He paused. “That’s the second thing.”
“What is?”
“I’m asking, no scratch that.” He sliced a hand through the air. “I’m telling you that one day I’ll ask you why, and you’ll answer me. With the truth.”
“No!” She jumped to her feet. “I won’t.” She tried to move away. He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall.
She froze.
“It’s not up for debate, Elliot. Non-negotiable.” He brought his face up to hers, pressed their foreheads together as he pushed his erection against her soft center. Her lashes fluttered, her panting breaths battered his face. She smelled good, like strawberries, lemons, and orgasms. “I’ll ask, sugar, not now, but soon, and you’ll answer with the truth.” He bit her shoulder. “Got me?”
She nodded.
He touched her hip then slid his hand down and up her skirt, caressing first one, then the other ass cheek before dipping a finger in the valley between. “Say ‘yes, Jud.’”
Breath shuddered out between her lips. “Yes, Jud.”
“Good.” He took her mouth hard, thrusting his tongue deep while teasing her ass with one finger. She moaned, a pretty sound he wanted to hear again and again. He pushed a thumb to her soaked pussy, getting it nice and slick then moved backward to her ass. He worked the wet finger into her rear entrance. She clutched his shoulders and shook.
She was a sensual creature once one got to the heart of her, got to know what made her tick. With one hand wrapped around her throat, he fucked her ass. He didn’t even have to apply any pressure to get her dripping. He kissed her, grinding his cock on her, groaning into her mouth when she touched him with the tip of her tongue, tentative swipes that made him smile in his head. His finger was up her ass, and he had his hand around her throat. Hell, he’d choked her to orgasm only minutes before, but his kisses made her cautious.
A contradiction, that Elliot Lively. He wanted to figure her out, wanted to know what made her the person she was. And he’d just bought himself enough time to do so.
He slammed his body into hers, pinning her into the wall as he worked his thumb deeper into her. She groaned and shook, tensing as she came. He kissed her slowly, swallowing the whimpers, reveling in the harsh breaths. After a while he released her.
She stood against the wall with heavy eyelids, lips wet and swollen. “Jud.”
“I’ve got you.” He kissed her forehead then went to her desk where he scribbled his address and phone number on the pad she’d been using earlier. “This is my address. I expect you there tonight at eight. We’ll have dinner.”
She made an unhappy sound he chose to ignore.
“Use my phone number if you get lost.” He adjusted his cock—he’d have to stop at a bathroom to relieve that hard-on, no doubt—and granted her a smile. “See you tonight, pretty Elliot. Don’t be late.”
Chapter Three
El chewed her steak slowly, doing her damnedest not to meet Jud Kincaid’s curious stare. They sat opposite each other in his kitchen, eating the dinner he’d prepared: steaks, potatoes, and some veggies thrown in. He sipped a beer while she stuck to water.
She’d known the instant she’d gotten into her car and begun the drive to his place that she’d need to be on guard, on point. He was different, and not just because he was so reluctant to hurt her. He wanted to talk, to dig, to understand her.
That shit was unacceptable.
He’d greeted her at his door with a kiss on the cheek, and waved her into his small but tidy apartment. As the door closed behind her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was stepping on a mine-field, into something she wasn’t totally sure she wanted.
Only the promise of him bringing the pain stayed her when she’d have turned and walked right back out.
“Tell me about your name.”
She jerked her gaze to him. His green eyes wrinkled at the corners when he smiled.
“Wh-what?”
“Your name.” He licked his lips. “Elliot isn’t a girl’s name. How did you get it?”
Oh. No. She couldn’t. The tremors started, and she dropped the fork onto her plate. “Um. I’m named after my grandfather.” She aimed for nonchalance, but his slight frown said she’d failed. The last thing she wanted or needed was to talk about herself, or her family. “My father’s father.” The one who’d left her the twenty-five thousand dollar inheritance she only got to claim after coming back to town. The money she’d offered Jud for his gym. “He died two days before I was born. I was supposed to be Marie.” She grimaced. “Now, I’m Elliot Marie Lively.”
A slow smile transformed his face from average to incredible. His dimples winked at her, white teeth flashed, and his eyes lit up like the huge tree in Rockefeller Center at Christmas. “Marie.” He shook his head with a bark of laughter. “You don’t strike me as a Marie. Elliot suits you.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Why?”
“Because it’s different.” He leaned across the table and cupped her chin with rough fingers. She let the shudder take her over. “Just like you, Elliot. So different.”
Her eyes burned. She didn’t like it, being different. She didn’t like standing out, being noticed. Jud’s fingers tightened on her chin. She met his eyes.
“That’s a good thing, Elliot.” His words were strong, final. “To me, it’s a very good thing.”
Yeah, right. El stifled a snort. Nowhere in her world was different a good thing, but she allowed him his illusion.
“Now.” Jud didn’t look at her while he cut his steak. “Are you ready to tell me why you need to be punished?”
The casual question was like a kick in the face. She lost her breath for a wh
ile, and her pulse and heart raced. Her entire body felt as if she’d been doused in ice, encased in a life-sized ice cube. Yet even as her body froze, her palms grew clammy, sweat turning her underarms slippery. Cigarette smoke teased her nose. She slammed her eyes shut.
Tease.
“No!” She clutched the steak knife, holding on for dear life, as if arming herself against the assaulting memories. “Please, I can’t.” She didn’t know whom she addressed right then, the man in front of her, or the monster in her head.
“It’s okay. Elliot, that’s okay.” Jud’s voice reached her from far away, calming, soothing. Gentle fingers brushed her knuckles. “It’s okay.”
His touch was so unexpected, the gentleness so foreign, that it yanked her back into the present. She stared down at her hand, trembling visibly, at the fingers stroking her. The contrast in their skin tones were striking, his light against her dark.
Beautiful.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Look at me.”
She did, even though she didn’t want to. She did it with obvious reluctance. She knew too, that she did it, because she couldn’t not meet his eyes. Patience was what she’d come to expect from him in such a short time, and what she saw on his face, in his eyes, when their gazes met.
Patience. Understanding. Why understanding? He didn’t know anything. Anger grew in her chest. Why would he be understanding when he had no answers to his questions?
“You don’t have to talk about you right now,” Jud told her. “I’m up for the challenge.” He took a swig of his beer then grinned. “I’m a middle child, older brother, younger sister. I was terrible to my sister. It’s us and our dad. Mom died when I was fifteen. Still miss her.” His gaze darkened with sadness. “You know I own the bar, but my goal is to own a gym.”
She tuned him out, the words “right now” ringing in her ears. She didn’t have to talk about herself right now, but evidently she’d have to do it at some point. That couldn’t happen. He didn’t need to know. The people who had that right were already caught up, one of them in the ground, dead and buried because her news was too big, too dark, too much.
