To Sir

by Rachell Nichole

  “Sweetheart, talk to me. You just let me spank you, for Christ’s sake, and now you won’t even look at me. What’s the matter?”

  Finally she blinked open those brown eyes rimmed in green and glared at him. Uh-oh. Clearly bringing up the spanking was not the way to go. Damn it. Everywhere he turned, an explosion waited for him. The fire blazing in her eyes dared him to keep pushing the issue. Which was exactly why he backed off.

  After a second of staring at him, she grinned. The smile was devious and a bit sadistic. “I had this sudden urge to do some research.”

  He watched her lips as they formed each word, and he groaned, his blood heating. “Research, huh?” He released her face and trailed his fingers down her flanks, tickling each rib as he went. She squirmed and squealed in his lap, bringing his blood from steaming to boiling over in a flash.

  Liz swatted at his hands and scrambled away, her breasts swaying invitingly at head level as she gained her feet and darted away from him. He reached for her, but she jumped back. “Yes. Research. Which has now been completed. There’s only one thing left to do.”

  Oh, he could think of about a million things he had yet to do to her, with her. And he wanted to do them all right now before sunup, which would be in a few short hours. Definitely not enough time to really get his fill of her. But there was always tomorrow. And the next day. Even the day after that. An amazing physical connection like the one they shared needed to be explored, logic be damned. Maybe she wasn’t his forever sub, but she sure as hell could be his for now.

  “Really? And what’s that?” he asked.

  “Write, of course.” She smirked and backed farther away from him. With her gaze locked on his, she reached down and snatched up her panties and put them on. And here was her retreat. He leaned back on the couch, spreading his arms along the back of it and watching her reverse striptease. She was covering her body with lacy slips of fabric, and it was almost as erotic as her taking the clothes off.

  She lifted her bra and hooked it around her waist, then spun it and pulled it up to cup her beautiful breasts, hiding them from his view. A real shame, that. But he couldn’t help admiring the way the flesh plumped out the tops of the cups, begging for a long lick. His mouth watered at the thought.

  “So you’ll be leaving, then?” he asked, a sinking in his gut. He’d just started to get things back in order around here, and now he could focus on his little problem with Liz. Except he wasn’t quite sure this little problem wouldn’t become a very large one if he wasn’t careful.

  “Yes,” she said curtly. “As soon as I slink into the alley and find my dress.” She shook her head and turned away from him, heading for the door.

  “Hang on, damn it.” He knew she was going to leave, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. Or make him panic. He never panicked about personal matters. The money his club was or wasn’t making made him lose sleep almost nightly, but he didn’t usually care enough about his life outside of that to worry much.

  He leaped to his feet and grabbed her wrist. “I said hang on,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m still not really sure what the hell just happened, how to deal with it, what to think about it, or if I even like you enough to have let you do that to me. I let you spank me, hold me down, and have your naughty way with me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tolerate this Neanderthal nonsense. Let go and get the fuck out of my way.”

  Her voice reverberated through him, and he groaned. Why did everything she did have to turn him on? He grinned, getting lost in her eyes, which spit fire at him.

  “And what exactly are you smiling at?” she demanded, jerking her hand away.

  “You said fuck again.”

  “Oh, I did not.”

  He nodded. “You most definitely did. You swear a lot more than you think.”

  “Only around you, apparently. What can I say? You bring out the drunken sailor in me. Now get the heck out of my way.”

  “Can’t you wait a damned minute?”

  Rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, she turned to him. “For what?”

  He grabbed his pants from the floor and started tugging them up his legs. Shoving his semihard cock into the tight leather proved a lesson in frustration, but he beamed at the way Liz’s gaze didn’t stray from his groin. He took an extra few seconds to adjust himself so he could watch her watching him. Finally he was zipped and slid his feet into his boots.

  “Are you really going to put that dress back on?” he asked.

  “Well, it’s not like I can drive home wearing this.” She swept her arm up and down in front of her.

  “That’s what trench coats were made for, sweetheart.” He opened his closet and pulled out the smallest coat he had. No doubt it would still be too large for her petite Asian frame, but it was better than a dress that he wasn’t sure would still be waiting in the alley downstairs. He held it out to her, and she snatched it from his grasp as if it were a life jacket. She yanked it on. “Jeez, you really in that much of a rush to cover up?” That was a shame.

  She rolled her eyes and tied the belt of the coat, closing the two sides of it almost completely over each other. The coat hung past her knees. “Thanks. I’ll, uh, get it back to you,” she mumbled, then turned.

  “Still trying to leave without me, are you?” he chided. With his longer strides, he beat her to the door by a second and held tight to the handle before she could push her way out of his office, and possibly out of his life. He wasn’t ready to accept that yet. “You really do need an escort,” he whispered against her ear before dropping his arm possessively around her waist and pulling her to his side. He pushed open his door, and she walked, if not contentedly, then at least quietly beside him. After a second of awkward walking, she put her arm around his waist and snuggled her body closer to his. He shortened his stride to match hers and stayed glued to her all the way to the staircase.

  He let her go in front of him down the stairs, but he retained possession of her hand. He’d publicly claimed her the moment she’d walked through the door, but now he felt even more possessive of her, his touch on her body more about true possession than a warning to his patrons that she was off-limits.

  As soon as she pushed her way through the door at the bottom of the stairs, he draped his arm around her shoulder, and she fell into step beside him. “Don’t go thinking this means anything,” she grumbled.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, unable to keep the grin off his face.

  She glared at him but didn’t comment further. He reluctantly led her to the door and outside to the front of the club. Kane and Aaron were still at their stations, and while they again shared a glance at seeing Chase with Liz, they remained silent.

  “Where’s your car?” he asked.

  “Over here.” Liz guided him down the sidewalk.

  “Listen, I— Shit,” Chase said. Liz’s tires were flat. Not only one, but two, maybe all of them; he couldn’t tell from this side of the car.

  She sagged against him. “What the heck?”

  One flat tire could’ve been from a nail or a bad cap. Two or more flats were too much of a coincidence. Someone had slashed her tires. And the car was far enough from the door of the club that the bouncers probably hadn’t seen anything. Not that he wouldn’t ask them.

  Then Liz was pulling away from him, and he fought the urge to hold her tighter. He had to let her have some space to breathe, or he was liable to suffocate her. He knew this. Logically he understood it. But that didn’t make letting her go any easier. She neared the car. Her windows and everything else remained intact. She punched in a code on the driver-side door’s keypad and opened the door.

  “I don’t have a spare,” she said, hitting the button to pop open her trunk. She brushed past him, and he followed. But she wasn’t paying him any mind as she leaned into the trunk for her purse.

  “Not that it would help, with two flats,” he said, trying to keep his anger in check. Someone had done this intenti
onally, and every protective instinct he had rode him hard. He couldn’t help but scan the street and alleys around them, searching for whoever had done this. It was likely some punk kids, but the edge of fear gnawing at him wouldn’t let up. “Let’s get you back inside.”

  He didn’t hear her reply with her head so far in her trunk. Where was her purse? Tahoe? He admired the view for a second, remembering the sexy lingerie she wore beneath his coat and also the supple skin beneath those lacy strips of fabric.

  He groaned aloud and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her backward. She moved with him as she had when he was thrusting deep inside her. This time, though, she swatted at his hand. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m going to have to call for a tow, anyway.”

  “Then why are you shoving me away?”

  She turned in his arms and tilted her head up to look him in the eye. “Because you don’t need to manhandle me every second you’re within arm’s reach.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ.”

  She rolled her eyes again and then shoved his chest hard. He stepped back, almost slipping on the edge of the curb.

  She took out her phone and dialed quickly, then rattled off what he assumed was her member number to her roadside car service. The fact that she had it memorized said she used it far too often.

  She gave her location and waited for confirmation, then ended the call and slid the phone back into her purse, which she kept on her shoulder. She closed the empty trunk, and the car beeped, the locks engaging with a click. “Great. This is fantastic.”

  She reached up to her earlobe and rubbed it delicately. He found himself leaning forward to place a small kiss over her earlobe and finger. She jerked back as if he’d shocked her. Maybe he had. Like it was a nervous gesture she did automatically, unconsciously. She blinked as if trying to refocus on him.

  “Let’s get inside,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Tow truck will be here soon enough.”

  “And then what?”

  “I’ll have him tow me to the garage and call a cab home from there.”

  “Nope. We’ll wait inside until he gets here, and then he can tow it to the garage and I’ll take you home. I’m not letting you go off in the middle of the night dressed like that with some tow truck driver and then a cabbie.”

  “You don’t actually get a say in the matter.” She stepped back and glared at him. “Clearly my don’t think this means anything comment didn’t get through that thick skull of yours. Whatever happened upstairs tonight was a fluke. It was physical. I’m not going to try and deny that I liked it, because we both know it would be a lie. But that doesn’t give you the power to have an opinion on what I do with my life, let alone tell me what I am and am not going to do. So you can shove it, Chase.”

  Shit. He’d said the wrong thing. Again. Would nothing ever go right with this woman? He failed to mention that for him, her submission meant exactly that. She was his now, even if temporarily. Whether or not she wanted to accept his dominance didn’t change the way he wanted to treat her. The way he needed to protect her as his own.

  Push forward or back off? He didn’t know which approach to take. Sometimes she submitted, bending to his strength of will. And then, just when he thought he knew which reaction he’d get, she surprised him, lashing out with her tongue and her wit, and he found that equally as exciting as her submission.

  A submissive who wouldn’t submit. There was a word for that in his world: a brat. He didn’t think she was being bratty on purpose to get his attention or to be punished, but damn if it didn’t have the same effect. He pushed her up against the side of the car, pinning her body there with his. She gasped, glancing around wildly, but didn’t scream for help or shove him away again.

  Her gaze, when she returned it to his, was heated with desire. And something a lot more dangerous. The stubborn set of her jaw enticed him, encouraged him to kiss away the defiance. He dipped his head and nibbled his way up her jawbone to her earlobe. She shivered beneath his touch, but her body didn’t relax. He wasn’t above seducing her into submission. In fact, that sounded like a brilliant idea. He cupped her hip through the folds of his coat and sucked her earlobe into his mouth.

  She groaned but held her body rigid. “Get off,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He released her earlobe and chuckled, then whispered, “Oh, sweetheart, I am trying to. But you seem to be giving me a bit of trouble.” He thrust his hard cock against her.

  She smacked her open palm into his chest, but he didn’t budge.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t order you about.” He didn’t say he wouldn’t, or that he didn’t have the right to as she seemed to think, simply that he shouldn’t. Because it got him in trouble. And maybe that was cause to do it instead of a reason not to. Perhaps he was the brat. “But you know it’s safer if you let me take you home.” He appealed to her sensible side, knowing it was buried deep within the brazen beauty who’d taken on two bodyguards double her size in order to get in the club. To him.

  He kept his head thoroughly nuzzled into her neck, licking, kissing her flesh as he told her all the reasons she should let him take her home.

  “Safer for whom?” she said on a moan.

  He thrust his hips into her again. He wanted to lift her coat and rip away the panties beneath to sink his way into her hot sheath. Forget that they were on the street. Or that they were mere yards from his club and doing so could put his business in even more jeopardy. He couldn’t seem to care.

  “Chase,” she said, his name a plea on her lips. The sound of it buckled his legs, and he slammed his hands down on the roof of her car to keep steady. God, he could get used to that edge of desperation in her voice. Knowing he’d driven her there took his pleasure to new heights. He had the sudden urge to pound on his bare chest. The friction of the trench coat rubbing against his skin with every squirm she made only revved him up more.

  The blaring ring of her phone startled them both, and he rose to his full height, though he kept his body firmly pressed against hers. With shaking hands, she retrieved her phone from inside her huge bag. What the hell did the woman carry in that thing, anyway? An entire library?

  She answered the phone. “Hello?” After a pause, she continued, “Yes, that’s great. See you soon.” She hung up and put her cell back in her purse.

  “Tow truck?” he asked.

  “Yeah, should be here shortly.” That would give them plenty of time to collect their wits.

  Son of a bitch. He’d practically had her eating out of his hand. A few more minutes, and she would have agreed to anything, including but not limited to letting him drive her home.

  She looked up expectantly at him. He thought about not taking the hint, but after a moment, he stepped back, putting an inch, maybe two between them. The scowl on her face told him she didn’t think that was enough space, but too damned bad.

  “Please, just let me drive you home. It’s no big deal. And you’ll get home quicker without having to wait for the tow truck to load your car, drop it at the garage, and then getting a cab home.”

  “Don’t you have responsibilities here?” Her voice was defiant, and he had the urge to hold her down and kiss her senseless. She couldn’t be defiant if his tongue was delving in and out of her mouth, now, could she? The idea held definite possibilities. But he refrained. Barely.

  “D can hold down the fort for the last hour or so we’re open. I trust him.”

  She bit her bottom lip. His gaze zeroed in on the movement, and she quickly tilted her head up, grinning. When he raised his gaze to her eyes, he saw they were sparkling with amusement. Shit. She’d obviously noticed the way he’d focused so intently on those delicious lips of hers. It didn’t do to let her know how badly she affected him. But since he’d taken her from I don’t do obedience to following his every order, at least in his office, he supposed he might have some effect on her as well.

  “Fine. You may drive me home.” She said it like she
was deigning to do him a favor, not the other way around.

  With a smirk, he moved back another half step and admired the view. She was equal parts adorable and sexy in the oversize trench coat. Her hair was still completely tousled from his attentions, a rosy blush colored her cheeks, and there was a distinct pinkened color on her neck where his mouth had been less than gentle.

  She leaned back against the car, her body more relaxed as she gazed up at him. Pride swelled as she perused his chest, as if wondering how he would taste. Maybe after she let him take her home, he’d let her find out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Liz sat in the leather bucket seat of Chase’s car. The thing was freaking gorgeous. Fast, sleek, sexy. A lot like its owner. She settled into the seat, and her gaze, though she tried to keep it locked on the window, kept straying to her…whatever Chase was to her. She didn’t really want to worry about that right now. So in a classic self-preservation move, she took a deep breath and ignored those thoughts.

  She gave him directions as he drove, and watched with fascination while he navigated the city streets with speed and ease.

  “So, what made you come to the club tonight? And why were you crying beforehand?” He stared at her from the driver’s seat, his dark eyes intense, drawing her in.

  “Watch the road!” she chided after a full minute.

  “Not until you answer me.” His voice was firm, and his gaze never wavered. The car lurched forward as he shifted into fifth gear.

  Liz’s heart pounded. She didn’t want to answer him. But she didn’t want to die in a fiery wreck either. Her mouth dried, her palms sweat, and she had to clamp her muscles tightly to keep from squirming under that penetrating, all-focused stare.

  “Well, it wasn’t really on purpose. I’d gotten lost, kind of driving around aimlessly. Then I looked around and realized I was near the club. And I…I don’t know…”