by Maisey Yates
And she would let herself have it. If only for now. This world of feeling, this desperate, raw, painful sensation that she sought out, was the direct opposite to the numbing bluntness she’d sought out from the pills.
“At least our crazy lines up and hits all the right places,” she said. “And creates orgasms.”
He tightened his hold on her, a laugh rumbling in his chest, vibrating against her back. “That’s one way of looking at it.”
“You’re so good,” she said. “Just so you know. Best I’ve ever had.”
“I’m the only you’ve ever had.”
“Weren’t you listening? I’ve had a lot of things. None of them made me feel this good. Sexually? Yeah, okay, you’re the only I’ve ever hard.”
“Because? I’m asking now because now I know you weren’t just hanging out being a paragon.”
“It’s easier to sneak pills past your sleeping brother than it is to sneak a man past him?”
“That’s all you’ve got?”
“It makes more sense than the truth.”
“Try me,” he said, shifting so that his thigh was between her legs and he was all tangled up in her.
“That I felt like I knew you when I saw you. Like maybe you could know me. Because you were so composed and smooth. So sexy. But you were sad. And you were angry. You were so familiar even though I’d never seen you before. And I wanted to touch you. I’ve never...needed to touch someone like I needed to touch you.”
He cupped her cheek and turned her face, kissing her. Deep and slow. There was no desperation, just a steady hunger that he fed, that somehow grew the more that he satisfied it.
“Now you’ve touched me,” he said, kissing her again, “quite a bit.”
“Yes. And do you want to know something else?”
“Of course.”
“I wanted this. I had fantasies of it. A man who would hold me down. Tell me what to do.”
“Is that so?”
“Does it shock you? That I’ve always known I had a submissive streak?”
“A little, because I can’t say I was that articulate to myself about my own fantasies.”
“I knew them,” she said. “The moment I saw you, I knew. I knew you were the one I could share this with.” The honesty came with a cost, but in truth, she was always honest in her actions with him. Laying herself bare every time she expressed a desire to submit to him.
“And do you regret it? Sharing this with me?”
“Never. Though you have a habit of tying my hands.”
“And you like it.”
“Yes,” she said, happier now that she’d just gone ahead and admitted it. And she wouldn’t think of anything else, of anyone else. Because she wouldn’t allow any ghosts in bed with Austin and her. She wanted to have him all to herself. She wanted to give him all of herself without caring about Jason and Sarah.
Just for a little while.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“You’re such a control freak,” she said, wiggling in his arms and turning to face him.
“And?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye she couldn’t remember seeing before.
“And nothing. Carry on.”
He slipped his hands down to cup her butt, pulled her tight against him. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Again?” she asked.
“I need more time to recover than that.”
“You’re hard already.”
“Still, I think the top of my head blew off sometime during my orgasm.”
“And you’re waiting to regrow it?”
“Something like that.”
“Too bad.” She slid down, wrapped her hand around his erection and leaned in, flicking her tongue over the head of his cock. “Because I think you really want this.”
He grabbed her hair, jerked her head back. “Hey, that’s not the game.”
“This is a new game,” she said, running her tongue along his length. “Where I get to play with you as much as I want. I’ve never seen a man like you.” She moved her hand up, over his chest and stomach, feeling the rough hair that was sprinkled over his hard, hot muscles. “I’ve never wanted a man the way I want you. You own me,” she said, sucking him deep into her mouth.
He grunted, his fingers still buried in her hair, pulling hard as she sucked on him. “Yeah, baby,” he said. “Yes, Katy.” He flexed his hips, pushing himself deeper into her mouth.
She held him steady, moved her hand in time with her tongue.
He swore, holding her tight while he gave up, his muscles shaking while he found his release. While he lost his control.
He lay on his back after, breathing hard, and she moved to him, lying over his chest, tracing shapes over his muscles with her fingertips. She took pride in the fact that his skin was slick with sweat. In the fact that, for a moment, he’d been the one at her mercy.
“You didn’t have to...”
“Mmm,” she said, licking her lips. “Shut up.”
“Maybe we should stay here,” he said. “Being snowed in isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Damned with faint praise.”
He bit her ear and she jumped. “Best I’ve ever had,” he whispered, his voice rough and sexy.
“And from you I guess that’s something,” she said, feeling breathless and sexy. Feeling like things were okay, even if it was just for a moment.
“There have been some women. But no one like you. Nothing like this.”
“So you’ve really never done this stuff with a woman before?”
“You couldn’t tell?”
She laughed. “A little bit I could tell. But only because you freaked out after. So what? You just discovered your inner dom?”
“No, not really. I would never have called it that. I’m still not sure I would. I don’t know anything about clubs or...that kind of thing. But I knew what I liked,” he said. “I’ve just never...acted on it before.”
“Oh, really?” She situated herself so that she was partly on top of him, her breasts crushed against his chest. “This intrigues me, Austin. I want to know all about your sordid fantasy life. You’re an overachiever. A go-getter. You’re so confident and established in your life. You’ve had lovers. So it fascinates me that you knew what you wanted, but never did anything about it.”
“Hey, I know what I jack off to. I was hardly unaware, naturally.”
“I know what I used to get off to, as well. Fantasies of handcuffs and men in uniform—don’t judge me. I have a thing for authority figures, which is ironic since in my real life I hate being told what to do. I guess that’s sort of a window into my psyche. But this is your story. Do tell. Make it my very dirty bedtime story.”
“There isn’t anything to tell. I knew that I liked the idea of being in control in bed. That I got turned on by the thought of tying a woman up. But I thought...you know, that stuff wasn’t for me. I mean, hell, all I needed was for an ex to tell the media that I, a lawyer who, like my father, takes a special interest in cases concerning women being harassed, was into domination games. Can you imagine the field day they’d have?”
“Image-conscious even in bed?”
“You have to be in my position. That’s why my mother couldn’t even cry in front of Addison and I when she found out my dad was having an affair, that he was in legal trouble. Because appearance is everything, and nothing else really matters.” He cleared his throat. “So yeah, even in bed you have to make sure there’s nothing that would damn you if it got out.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“No. Because it takes a hell of a lot of...trust? Something. I don’t know. And I never felt like I could with anyone else. Yeah, it is trust. To let this part of myself show. To let it have free rein.”
“How could you trust me? You knew me for twenty minutes before you had me tied up in a hotel room.”
He smiled at her. “I could ask you the same question. You said I was the first man you trusted to do this stuff to you.”
“Well, I make unhealthy life decisions. I think we’ve established that.”
“You’ve made a lot of healthy ones, too, Katy. Don’t forget about all those just because you made bad ones, too. You got off drugs, you took care of your brother, you got work and you’re doing all of this to try and get justice for your sister. To free these other women. The ones who were involved in the past, and now, and who would have been taken in in the future.”
“You make me sound like a saint.”
“No. Just a sinner who’s done some pretty extraordinary things.”
“Or maybe a sinner with good intentions? Though, you know what they say about good intentions and the road to hell....”
“I don’t believe that,” he said. “I think good intentions do matter.”
“What the hell difference do they even make?”
“They make you who you are. If my father had a good intention inside of him then maybe things wouldn’t have gone the way they did for Sarah. For any of the women involved in this.”
“But it takes more than good intentions to fix a mess like this.”
“And you’re doing it.”
“So are you,” she said, thinking of his mother and sister earlier. Of the pain he’d been through. That they’d been through. “I think we can rest easy for a night.”
“Tomorrow we have to go back. And we have to go to his New Year’s Eve party. I do wonder when my mother will drop the bomb.”
“When she does, what will you do?”
“Me? I’ll stick close to my father,” he said, though his tone was less decisive than it usually was when he was stating something he considered to be a certainty.
She was starting to recognize his tones. Whatever the hell that meant.
“But what about your reputation, Austin? Shouldn’t you distance yourself like Addison and your mom are? Shouldn’t you protect yourself?”
“I can’t afford to do that,” he said. “And I don’t deserve to do it.”
“Why?”
“Because I was so close to Sarah. To what happened. I should have listened then. I should have stopped it then. You couldn’t have done anything. You were a kid. You were a hundred miles away. I was right here. I don’t deserve distance now.”
She examined his profile, hard as granite, masking so much hurt. So much hate. For himself. He was so beautiful, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. All hard muscle, and straight, perfect lines. And yet he hated himself.
She wanted to take it from him, shoulder it. Make him realize that he was worth more. Make him see what she saw.
And what do you see?
She didn’t want to examine it too closely.
“How long are you going to punish yourself?” she asked.
“I might ask you the same question.”
She took a deep breath and tried to shift some of the weight off of her chest. “I’d rather have you punish me. Let’s just stick with that.”
“For how long?” he asked. “How long are we going to do this?”
“I don’t know. Until the end? Until we go our separate ways and ride off into the distance? That’s what I plan on doing. I’m going to leave the city behind. I’m going to leave all the ugly behind. Wipe my feet on the whole damn East Coast, maybe.”
“Where will you go? Not the Bible Belt, I wouldn’t think.”
“Why not? Maybe I want to try out being a Southern girl. Sit on a porch somewhere and drink sweet tea. Soak up the sun. Sounds easier than this.”
“What else?”
“I was thinking California. As far the hell away from here as possible without leaving the continent. Sun. Palm trees.”
“Swimming pools. Movie stars.”
“Hell yeah.”
“It’s a nice dream,” he said.
“Sure. What about you? What will you do when it’s over?”
“What everyone does after a hurricane hits. Rebuild.”
“Do you think you can?”
He chuckled. “No. But I’ll damn well try. Because the rubble that will be left behind? That’s my legacy. I’ll live or die in it. Eventually we’ll find out which.”
Chapter Eleven
It was midmorning when they got back to the penthouse the following day. Austin had held her all night, and when she’d woken up, for the first time in her life, she’d felt like the one being protected.
She’d woken up with Trey in her bed before. His little body cold because the heat was off. Trembling, and with no one else to turn to. And later, she’d locked herself in her room, feeling like she was breaking apart from the inside out, and found her solace in a pill bottle.
This was different. This was...
It was nice to have someone there who made her feel safe. Who made her feel like she was sharing a burden.
And they were. She and Austin shared the weight over Sarah’s death more than anyone else. More than Trey, because Katy had shielded him from it, and because he’d hardly known the sister who’d moved out when he was three. More than her parents, who’d never been sober enough to really understand.
Austin was carrying it. And he was going to see it finished.
He was her own, personal Samwise, helping her carry the ring to Mount Doom. Or something like that.
Whatever, she’d found something with him. Sure, their bond was made of grief and rage, but in between was incredible sex and the beginning of what felt like a friendship.
So, it wasn’t all bad.
“What would you have me do, master?” she said, turning to face him in the hall.
“Do not mess with me like that, Katy. I could get used to it,” he said.
“I wouldn’t complain.”
“You might if I made you my good little slave girl.”
“I already am, aren’t I?”
“Only when you’re naked. The rest of the time you seem to fight me for control.”
“I have no interest in being submissive when there’s no orgasm in it for me.” But she couldn’t deny that “good little slave girl” made something inside of her tingle.
“What exactly were you looking for instruction on?”
“Where do you want me to sleep?”
“Your toothbrush is already on my sink. I might as well reap the benefits. You should sleep in my bed. Naked, naturally.”
“So I’ll be a good slave?”
“You said it, not me.”
“I’m so tired. And we didn’t do anything.”
“Except have sex all night.”
“Except that,” she said drily, heading through to his bedroom, feeling a strange sense of intimacy close in on them when she crossed the threshold.
This needed to stop. Or at least...she needed to stop letting Austin take up so much head space. None of this was supposed to be about him. It wasn’t supposed to be about her.
“I think I need a shower,” he said, tugging his shirt up over his head. “Wash the travel grit off.”
Her throat dried at the sight of his body. Hard, carved lines of muscle, dark hair over his pecs, thinning out down his abs, down beneath his jeans. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to lick him. It suddenly seemed more important than revenge.
She cleared her throat. “You have travel grit after driving a couple of hours? Sex-ay.”
“It’s a clever ploy to con you into the shower.”
“Hell, dude, you have three showerheads. All you have to do is ask.”
Just another couple of hours. Just a l
ittle more. A chance to feel something more than anger. Something more than numb. Something only Austin could give.
* * *
Austin looked out the window and leaned back in his chair. Damn. He still had two cases to review before he could go home and be with Katy.
Katy, whose panties had been on his bathroom floor this morning. Whose toothbrush was in the holder with his on the sink.
Katy, who had taken over his life, his brain and his body.
And he couldn’t even be sorry. She made him smile, which was ludicrous in so many ways. With his world crashing down around him, she made him feel both in control and blessedly out of it. She made him feel bliss.
She even made him laugh.
It was New Year’s Eve and they were supposed to go to his dad’s party tonight, a part of making the reconciliation look like A Thing That Was Happening, but he couldn’t muster up any desire to go.
Not when the alternative involved staying home all night with Katy. As soon as he walked in the door from work he fully intended to push her down on the nearest surface and have his way with her until neither of them could think.
He was in the mood to tie her to the bed tonight. To pleasure her until she was begging for him to stop. But he wouldn’t.
No, he would pleasure her until he was done.
He looked at the files on his desk and growled.
He wondered how she was doing. If she were still stressed about her brother and his scholarship. There was really nothing she could do to fix it. If the kid was intent on slacking off, then that was what he was going to do. But he knew that she felt like it was her job to fix it.
Just like he would if it were Addison.
Just like he did now, because it was Katy’s problem. And Katy’s problem felt like his, God knew why. It did, though. He felt it like a weight on him, just as he felt it release, for both of them, when they were in bed.
And sometimes just when they were together.
That woman had gotten underneath his skin, straight into his blood. And he couldn’t work out how to get her back out.
When it’s all said and done, she’ll be gone. And you won’t have to worry about it anymore.
