Having Her: Lies We Tell, Book 2

by Jackie Ashenden

  “If you don’t want it, just say no and I’ll never bother you again.”

  Kara, her mouth still open, blinked.

  Every muscle in his body pulled tight, waiting for her to answer.

  Please, God, say yes. Please.

  “Vin, I…”

  “Tell me, Kara.”

  She let out a breath and looked away from him.

  No. It was going to be a no. The disappointment was so bitter he could almost taste it on his tongue.

  “Yes,” she murmured, her voice so low it was almost inaudible. “I do want it.”

  For a second he didn’t quite understand, so sure he’d been of a different answer. Then, as disappointment became something else, a satisfaction so deep he wanted to reach over and grab her there and then, he put his hands in his pockets to keep from doing just that.

  “Good,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “Text me when you’re ready.”

  Then he turned and left without another word. Needing to get out of her immediate vicinity before he did something stupid like haul her away from her café and into his car. Into the backseat where he could pull up her skirt, rip off her panties and bury himself inside her.

  Instead he went back to his office, feeling better than he had in weeks. Which was weird since the prospect of sex didn’t normally affect him like this.

  Then again, it wasn’t just ordinary sex, was it? It was sex with Kara. And he didn’t know why that should make it different but it did.

  He told himself he didn’t care when she texted him, but he kept checking his phone the rest of the morning all the same.

  Tonight. He hoped it would be tonight. And that she’d want to do again what they’d done two nights ago.

  His slave. His property.

  Vin scowled at his computer screen and reached down to adjust the hard-on that had made itself unwelcome in his jeans.

  This was crazy. If Kara didn’t text him soon he’d have to go back to the café again. And this time perhaps he would haul her away from the counter and into his car instead of just thinking about it.

  Someone knocked on his office door then opened it without waiting for him to speak.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Vin growled, irritated with the interruption. It would either be Hunter or Ellie since no one else just barged into his office like that. “Could you wait—”

  The words died away the instant he raised his head to see who it was. Because it wasn’t either Hunter or Ellie.

  It was Kara.

  He stared at her with a certain amount of shock as she closed the door behind her then leaned against it. She had her long black coat wrapped around her, incongruous in the summer heat, and there was a spark of defiance, of challenge, in her eyes.

  Vin’s breath caught, his body tensing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She ignored the question. “First of all,” she said, her voice breathless and a little shaky, “you should know that I don’t want a relationship. All I want is sex. So whatever is between us doesn’t mean anything, okay?”

  He opened his mouth to tell her that yeah, shit, that was fine with him but she held up a hand. “Wait. Let me finish. Second, this can’t get in the way of me and Ellie being friends. Her friendship is too important to me.” She took a ragged breath and pushed herself away from the door. “And third, if we have sex, then I only want to do it if we do it like this.” As she said the words, she opened her coat, letting it slip from her shoulders to reveal what she wore underneath it.

  The slave costume.

  Instantly he was hard as a rock, his hands gripping the arms of his chair tightly.

  Holy Christ. She’d liked what they’d done. She really had.

  “Are you sure?” he demanded hoarsely, because he had to know.

  “Yes. I’m sure.” The sun coming through the windows sent a path of light over the pale golden skin of her stomach and thigh, and he wanted that bikini off. Leave her in just the collar.

  His fingers tightened even further on the arms of the chair. “You want to be my slave? Do what I say?” There could be no doubts here. None. Because he hadn’t realized, until he’d seen the costume, that he’d wanted it to be that way too.

  His slave. His alone.

  “I’m in the costume, aren’t I? Doesn’t that tell you what I want?”

  “That’s not enough. I want to hear you say it.”

  Her eyelashes, long and thick with blue mascara, fluttered. Her throat moved. And he knew that saying the words was difficult for her. But her gaze when it met his was steady. “I want this,” she said clearly. “I want to be your slave, Vin.”

  He felt something shift inside him. A key in a lock.

  Slowly he pushed himself out of his chair and came toward her. She didn’t look away, didn’t move from where she stood by the door, but he could hear her breathing become faster the closer he got to her. And when he put his hands on the door on either side of her head, he heard her breathing get faster still.

  She smelled so sweet, like flowers with an edge of musk. And she was so warm. He remembered the feel of her skin beneath his fingers, like fine satin. The taste of her in his mouth, heady as a good wine.

  She’d backed up against the door so he surrounded her, caging her against the wood. He liked that. Liked feeling he overwhelmed her. He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, but he did all the same. He wanted her overwhelmed by him. Wanted her panting and flushed, that snarky, sarcastic front gone.

  “Are you my slave now?” he asked softly.

  Her chin came up. “Of course now. Why do you think I’ve got my costume on?”

  “It’s the middle of the day, baby girl. In a building full of people working.”

  He knew the patronizing endearment would annoy her. And sure enough, a flash of the Kara he knew lit her unnaturally green eyes. “Why? Does that bother you? Oh my God, Vin. At least I have an excuse for not being adventurous.”

  She was taunting him. Of course she was. And it hit him that she was right.

  He’d never been bad before. Never done anything crazy or wild. With a little sister and a sick mother to look out for, he couldn’t afford to. Teenage rebellion—shit, any sort of rebellion—had been completely out for him. He’d always had to be responsible. Do the right thing.

  Well, not today. Here he was, contemplating fucking a beautiful woman dressed in a slave costume, in his office, in the middle of the day. It was all kinds of wrong but he didn’t care. He’d earned the right to be bad. To be wild. After fifteen years of toeing the line, he’d cross over it if he goddamn wanted to.

  Vin reached down and locked the door. Then he took the end of her slave chain in his hand and stepped back from her. “You want it now, you’ll get it now. Take off your clothes, slave.”

  He heard her breath catch. “What about you?” she asked. “Don’t I get to—”

  “I didn’t give you permission to speak.”

  “But I don’t—”

  “You can’t accuse me of not being adventurous then wimp out, baby. It doesn’t work that way.” Wrapping her chain around his wrist, he pulled her toward him so her heat and scent were right up close. “You came here to push me, Kara, don’t pretend you didn’t. So consider me pushed. If you don’t want the consequences, then now’s your chance to leave.”

  He didn’t want her to leave, but he had to give her an out if she wanted to take it. Because he was afraid that another five minutes and he wouldn’t be able to.

  She stared at him for a moment, hesitating. “I’m not going to leave. But…I’m your slave, aren’t I? Yours.”

  There was an expression in her eyes he couldn’t read, a hint of desperation in her voice. As if she wanted an acknowledgement of some sort. So he gave it to her, gave it to them both. “Yeah, you’re mine. Now do as you’re told and take your clothes off.”

  The words must have been what she wanted to hear because her posture changed, became more relaxed, looser. Accepting. Her fingers went to t
he fastenings on her costume and a minute later she stood there in his office, the sun gliding a golden hand over her beautiful, naked body.

  Calm spread through him, a tension he didn’t even realize he felt leaving him. He had her now. His slave. For his pleasure alone. And now it was time to take it. Take something for himself.

  Kara kept her gaze down as he led her toward his desk by the chain. He could hear her breathing fast and sharp in the silent room, and the sound made him harder.

  As he sat in his chair, he watched her face, studying it for anything that would indicate fear. Saw none. Only the blush in her cheeks.

  Christ, she was lovely. Blue hair and weird green eyes yes, but still so beautiful. What would she be like without the color in her hair? Would it be the same gold as the curls between her legs? And what about the natural color of her eyes? It had been so long since he’d seen her without contacts he couldn’t even remember what color that was.

  “On your knees,” he ordered. Then he spread his thighs as she knelt, tugging her forward so she could kneel between them.

  He held her chain tight, his heartbeat thudding. “Get my cock out.”

  Like she had two nights ago, she reached for the button of his fly then pulled at the zip. But this time her fingers didn’t shake, nor did she fumble as she reached inside his boxers. And he nearly groaned as she touched him, the breath hissing in his throat as she drew him out. She flicked a startled glance at him as she did so and he didn’t look away.

  He hadn’t two nights ago. Had wanted her to see how she affected him because it had so clearly turned her on too. So he didn’t bother to do so now.

  And when her color deepened still further, it satisfied him on a level he couldn’t name. Turning her on was such a rush.

  “Don’t look so surprised, slave,” he said softly. “You know how hard you make me. But now you’ve got to do something about it. So how about you wrap that beautiful mouth around my cock and suck me off?”

  He’d chosen his words as much for her pleasure as for his, knowing how she’d got off on his dirty talk the last time. And he wanted to shock her. She’d been pushing him since day one. Time to reciprocate.

  Slowly Kara came up on her knees, the warm pressure of her body against his thighs making him ache. She hesitated. “I don’t…I don’t know…”

  Vin put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back so he could see her face. Her green eyes darted away, her cheeks flaming scarlet. She’d gone tense.

  “You don’t know how to do it?” he asked. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “I…”

  “Answer me, slave.”

  She still wouldn’t look at him. “No, I don’t.”

  That surprised him. She’d been so sensual, had responded so completely to him two nights ago, he’d been sure she’d had some sexual experience.

  Well, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to complain about having to teach her how to give head.

  “Look at me.” He used the same tone of command he did on the building site when the apprentices were out of line, and it had the desired effect, her gaze coming to his instantly. “Remember what I said about the saw? If it didn’t cut then that it was my fault I didn’t sharpen it? All you need to do is what I tell you. And if I don’t like it, it’s my fault.”

  Her throat moved. “Okay.”

  “Now, run your tongue around the head, slave.”

  Kara bent her head, no hesitation this time, and he felt her tongue touch his cock, at first tentative then, slowly, with more confidence. His breath caught. “Open your mouth. Take it inside.” The order came out sharp but he didn’t care. He just wanted more.

  She did as she was told, the heat of her mouth engulfing him and he groaned as a shock of electric pleasure went straight down his spine. “Fuck…that’s good.” Vin closed his eyes for a second, leaning back in his chair as she began to move her mouth on him. She wasn’t experienced but that in no way detracted from the intensity of the sensation. In fact there was an element to her hesitancy that made it even more intense.

  God, she was going to blow his head off at this rate.

  With his free hand, he grabbed her ponytail, coiling the softness of it in his fist, directing her movements. He looked down, watching as she knelt between his legs, sucking him off.

  It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen his life.

  Outside in the hallway he could hear someone speak, the sounds of work continuing on around him. But not in here.

  In here his beautiful slave was giving him a blowjob, and afterward he was going to flip her naked body over his desk and fuck the living hell out of her.

  So wrong. Selfish of him.

  The thought made him so hard he couldn’t think, and suddenly he wanted to be inside her. Have the fantasy right now. And why the hell not? She was his to command, wasn’t she?

  His hand tightened in her ponytail as he eased her mouth off him. She blinked. “Did I… Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, you did exactly what I wanted. I just changed my mind. On my desk, slave.” Kara got to her feet then backed away slowly to the desk, putting her hands behind her on the wood and pushing herself up and onto it. She didn’t look at him but he let himself look at her.

  She was all pink skin and exquisite curves. Her hard little nipples were a deep rose color and he remembered the taste of them. Remembered the sounds she’d made as he’d sucked on them. Christ, he’d never thought a woman so soft and vulnerable could be so desirable.

  Getting out of his chair, he went over to the desk, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket as he did so. Found the condom he kept in it, the one he’d had to replace after that first night with her. He got it out and ripped it open. Then he gave it to her and this time she didn’t need instruction. She unrolled it down on his cock, her fingers firm, applying pressure, making him want to growl as fire flashed along his nerve-endings.

  “Lie down,” he said roughly and when she did so, he nearly growled again. The sheer eroticism of having her naked on his desk in the middle of a work day was like a punch to the gut. Smart, snarky Kara in a slave collar. Ready to do his bidding. “Spread your legs for me.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered closed as she did as she was told, letting her knees fall open. Letting him see how pink and wet she was. Ready for him.

  He couldn’t wait. Gripping her hips, he pulled her to the edge of the desk, positioned himself then thrust inside her.

  She gave a soft cry, her body arching. He hooked his arm underneath her knee, drawing her leg up and around his waist, leaning forward, pushing deeper. Then he stopped, letting the incredible heat of her body seep through him. Into him.

  He looked down at her, lying back on his desk amongst the boring detritus of work, the sun illuminating her. Gold and blue and pink. Like a rare and precious work of art made especially for him. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open.

  He thrust again, harder, listening to the sounds she made. Christ, she felt tight as a glove. Perfect.

  “You feel so good, slave,” he murmured. “I love how tight you are.”

  She gasped, her hands pressing down on the wood of the desk beneath her, her hips lifting in time with his.

  “Do you like this? Do you like being naked on my desk?” The words spilled out of him, he couldn’t stop them. Raw and hot and erotic. Words he’d never said to anyone else. “Being fucked in the middle of the day, where anyone can hear you?” He hauled her leg higher, pushing deeper. “I can make you scream, baby. Scream so everyone can hear how hard I can make you come.”

  Kara groaned, her body shivering as he moved inside her, faster now, harder. Pleasure uncoiling inside him like a whip.

  Distantly he heard someone knock on his door and he said something—he didn’t know what—and the knocking stopped, but somehow the knowledge of what he was doing and who he was doing it with, came back to him. An erotic tidal wave of knowledge.

  Kara Sinclair. Who’d ag
reed to be his slave. Who he was screwing in his office in the middle of the day.

  Bad. And yet so very, very good.

  Vin gripped her hips tightly, moving faster. Driving himself and her closer to the edge and as he went over, he was conscious of only thing.

  They had to do this again.

  Chapter Six

  Kara lay on Vin’s desk feeling as if the world had ended. Outside the office she could hear people talking, the sounds of reality continuing, but inside all she could hear was Vin’s breathing and hers, fast and ragged.

  Oh God. She couldn’t believe what had just happened, what she’d just done. That they’d ended up having sex on his desk.

  Oh come on, really? You showed up here in the slave costume. What did you expect would happen?

  She swallowed, her eyes still shut, trying to take a breath, put herself back together again.

  Yeah, she’d expected this to happen. Wanted it to. Wanted to take his orders, lose her self-consciousness and her vulnerability in the role of his slave.

  And also she’d been pissed at the way he’d just appeared in the café out of the blue, telling her he wanted her again. Embarrassed and pissed. She hadn’t expected to hear from him again. Hadn’t wanted to hear from him again. In fact she’d just wanted to forget the whole slave episode in her apartment. Her behavior had been so out of control, so unlike her that it had embarrassed her even to think about.

  Until he’d pinned her to the spot in the café with those stormy blue eyes of his, making her thoroughly aware of every part of her he’d touched. Every part of her that wanted him to touch her again.

  Possibly she should have waited to contact him when she’d got home that night but dammit, he couldn’t have it all his own way. She’d wanted to push him so she’d made sure she had cover at the café and then had gone and got the costume again. And turned up at his office.

  The look on his face as she’d taken off the coat had made it worth doing that alone.

  But then he’d taken it much further than she’d ever expected.

  Who knew that straight-arrow Vin would have taken her on his desk at work?