Wicked

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Wicked Page 12

by Sasha White


  He hadn’t even touched her when they were in that private room. She’d touched herself while he watched. He used a riding crop to touch her, and, ohh, it had felt good. The sharp stinging snaps of pleasure that had zinged from her nipples to her sex, and her sex to every nerve in her body.

  That had been a new experience for her. One she’d thoroughly enjoyed. The role-playing had been intense, and the tender care afterward had been…unique.

  Diluted arrows of pleasure zipped from her nipples when she flopped onto her stomach and they scraped against the sheet. A smile curved her lips and she buried her face into the pillow. She was okay with him having control of her body when he made it feel so damn good.

  * * *

  Lara’s eyes popped open and she sat bolt upright in bed. A quick glance at the clock told her she’d slept through her alarm and was late for work. Adrenaline flooded her system and she jumped from the bed.

  Since she’d been so deliciously washed the night before, she didn’t bother to shower. Mind in total lockdown and an untoasted strawberry Pop Tart clenched between her teeth, she locked the door behind her and made the dash for her car.

  Graham, dressed in a lime-green shirt that was so bright it hurt her eyes yet somehow managed to look good on him, was just climbing into his silver Mitsubishi and he slapped her ass as she jogged past. “Late night, Lara?” he called out with a smirk.

  Lara ignored him and kept moving around her car only to stop dead in her tracks. “Fuckin’ bitch!”

  “Hey!” Graham cried out. “I was just teasing.”

  She threw her hands up in the air and glared at him. “Not you. This! Did you see this?” She pointed at the tires on her car.

  Both tires on the driver’s side were completely flat. The rear tire had a jagged slash in it, and the front tire, a big black knife handle still sticking out of it. Her phone was already in her hand when she realized she’d been about to call Karl. Why the hell would she call him?

  She clipped the phone back on her hip, and then bent down to pull the knife out only to have Graham snatch at her hands. “No! Don’t touch it. The police will want to see it.”

  “The police?”

  “Well, yeah.” He stared at her. “This wasn’t an accident, honey, you need to call the cops.”

  “Now?” Then she’d have to wait around for them. “I don’t have time for this. Graham. I’m going to be late for work.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Peter was padding down the driveway, barefoot and holding a steaming mug of coffee. Lara’s mouth watered.

  “Look at this. Graham says I need to call the cops.” She pointed to the tires before reaching for his coffee mug and taking a drink. She grimaced at the taste, but took another, hoping the caffeine would help clear the fuzziness from her brain.

  “It looks like you pissed someone off,” Peter said, accepting his coffee mug back automatically.

  “What? You think was directed at me personally?”

  Peter gestured up and down the road, his green eyes serious. “Do you see anyone else with a knife sticking out of their tire? Not to mention the fact that they left the knife behind. I’d see that as a threat, or warning of some kind.”

  A shiver danced down Lara’s spine. “Whatever. I haven’t done anything to anyone, so it was probably a case of mistaken identity.”

  Peter reached down and pulled the knife from the tire and examined it. “Good knife, too.”

  “Shouldn’t we have left that in, for the cops?” she asked. Just in case it had been meant as warning to her.

  Peter put the knife in his other hand, the clank of the steel blade against his ceramic coffee mug a chilling sound. He saw her shiver and wrapped his arm around her in a half hug. “The police won’t drive out here just to see a couple of slashed tires. You can report it by phone if you want, or I can do it for you.”

  “How do you know for sure?”

  He smiled and squeezed her shoulders. “You learn all sorts of trivia when researching for fiction novels.”

  Suddenly, Lara became aware of Graham’s silence, and the way he was watching her and Peter. She met his gaze and raised his eyebrows. What?

  He shook his head. “C’mon, honey. Let Peter make the call. I’ll drive you to work.”

  As soon as Graham’s car cleared the driveway, she turned her gaze on him. “How are things with you and Peter?”

  Surprise showed clearly in his raised eyebrows and open mouth when he glanced at her. “You’re asking me a personal question?”

  She never asked personal questions. Lara was the queen of keeping things impersonal, yet she felt a little insulted by his reaction. “What? You know just because I don’t always ask, that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

  “Uh huh,” he glanced at her again, the gleam in his eyes speculative. “I think maybe dating Mr. Dawson has something to do with it.”

  “I’m not dating Karl. I’m fucking him.”

  “You’ve had dinner with him, he sent you flowers, and you went out with him again last night.” Graham lifted a finger with each point until he was fluttering three of them in her face. “That’s dating, sweetheart.”

  Shit. Panic fluttered in Lara’s tummy but she squelched it, fast. “It’s just sex, Graham. Your boss knows his way around a woman’s body, and I’m enjoying it.”

  Graham sighed. “I know I wasn’t exactly thrilled when you started dating him, but, Lara, honey, the man is more than hot, he’s a good guy. If you like him, I say go for it. It’s about time a man gave you a run for your money.”

  She didn’t need to ask what he meant by that; the way she could wrap men around her little finger was a running joke between them. Instead, she was curious… “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  He gave her an arch look. “He sent you flowers that weren’t a kiss-off bouquet.”

  Panic rose in Lara. “It was a thank-you. He thinks I’m good in bed, that’s all. Don’t read anything into it, Graham. It’s just sex with us. Incredible sex,” she muttered. “But still just sex.”

  “You keep saying that, maybe you’ll convince yourself.”

  “How did we get on this topic anyway? I want to know what’s up with you and Peter.”

  Graham pulled into the parking lot of the warehouse and came to a stop at the staff entrance. When he faced her, his eyes were worried. “He’s horny for a female, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Okay, she’d asked. Now what was she supposed to do? Offer advice? A shoulder to cry on? He did look like he could burst into tears at any moment. Shit, what did she get herself into?

  “Well, uhmm, I take it you don’t want to uhmm, get him one?”

  “No! What if he enjoys it so much he decides he’s not gay anymore? I’d lose him!”

  Lara’s hand was on the doorknob, her muscles tense and ready to go. She hated to talk about emotions and stuff, but it was Graham, and despite herself, she cared for him.

  Letting go of the door, she turned in her seat to face him. “Graham, Peter loves you. He’s let you into his home, and his heart, and letting him get naked with a woman isn’t going to change that. Sex can just be sex, a physical urge, two bodies, two animals enjoying what comes naturally. It’s not always making love. Do you trust him?”

  Tears welled in his eyes and he nodded. “Yes. I mean, he could’ve just cheated, but he didn’t. He told me what he wanted.”

  “See? There you go.” She patted him on the shoulder. “He just needs a little pussy every now and then, it doesn’t mean he won’t always love you.”

  Graham leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks, Lara. You’re a good friend.”

  Warmth flooded her and her lips split into a grin. She was a good friend.

  Graham tensed and pulled back. “Uhmm, I think you’re in trouble, too.”

  Lara turned to see her boss standing at the staff entrance, arms folded across his barrel chest, eyebrows pulled into a bushy V.

&
nbsp; Shit.

  “Gotta go, Graham. Thanks for the ride.”

  She jumped out of the car and prepared for a bad day to get worse.

  23

  The incessantly ringing phone was getting on Karl’s last nerve and he was ready to rip the phone lines right out of the wall when Graham finally sashayed in and parked his ass behind the reception desk.

  Rising from his chair, Karl strode out to the reception and glared down at his assistant. “You’re late.”

  “Yes, I am. But I brought you coffee.” Graham held out a cardboard cup. “Lara had some trouble this morning and I had to drive her to work. There’s a Starbucks right next to the warehouse she works out of, and I couldn’t resist.”

  Every muscle in Karl’s body tensed. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  Graham waved around the cup he was still holding. “Don’t you want the coffee?”

  He took the cup and spoke through gritted teeth. “Thank you. Now tell me what kind of trouble Lara had.”

  “Someone slashed the tires on her car last night. Can you believe it? Peter thinks it was deliberate threat aimed at Lara, too, since they left the knife stuck in the tire. Big knife.”

  Ice ran though Karl’s veins, then fire. He dropped the file he was holding on Graham’s desk and turned on his heel. “The papers are signed. File that, and bill Ken Brand.”

  “Okey dokey.”

  He punched Lara’s number into the phone and waited while the phone rang once, twice, the third ring cut off Lara’s harried voice answered. “Hey Karl, how are you doing?”

  “Not so well, sugar. Why did I have to hear it from Graham that someone has threatened you?”

  “I wasn’t threatened. Some punk just vandalized my car.”

  “Slashed tires is not vandalism, not if yours is the only car hit, and they leave the knife. Graham’s lover is right. That’s a threat.”

  Her sigh echoed over the phone line. “I’m not going to argue about it, Karl. I’m having a shit day and it’s not even noon yet.”

  “Lara.” He stopped his pacing and softened his voice; she didn’t need his fear or anger right now. She needed his strength. “Sugar, where are you right now?”

  “Just getting ready to leave the lube shop on Hastings.”

  “Lube shop, hmm?”

  That did the trick. His girl’s dirty little mind immediately jumped on the innuendo and her chuckle soothed his nerves.

  “That’s my girl. I love to hear you laugh,” he soothed. “You feel a little better?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Now tell me why you didn’t call me this morning, so I could make you feel better then.”

  “Because it had nothing to do with you. What could you have done, Karl? It was probably just a case of mistaken identity anyway.”

  “I could’ve made you feel better, but that’s not the point.” He firmed his voice. “The point is that last night you agreed you were mine, and I take care of what’s mine. I do not like hearing news secondhand, and I especially do not like someone threatening what’s mine.”

  “I’m not yours, Karl. My body is yours to use, I get that, and I even like that. But I’m still me, the same independent and bold woman you met almost two weeks ago. I’ve been taking care of myself for more than a decade and that’s not going to change any time soon.”

  His muscles twitched as he put his head down and bit his tongue. Silence stretched between them and his temper faded, leaving him hurt and little confused. How could she ignore the connection between them? It was so much more than physical.

  Telling her that wouldn’t be enough, though. He was getting to know Lara better every minute. She was smart, but she was stubborn, too. Telling her would accomplish nothing. He needed to show her. “Then you better bring your body to my office sometime this afternoon so I can make us both feel better.”

  “I’ll try,” she said.

  “Don’t try, sugar. Do it.” He paused, listening to her breathing get heavier. “I have another call, so I have to go now. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  He set the phone down and sank into his chair. She was fine, unhurt, and apparently as strong and brazen as ever. He on the other hand, felt like he’d been sucker punched.

  It didn’t matter that it was only her car that was hurt, what mattered was that she hadn’t trusted he would be there for her. And no matter what she said, his gut was telling him that the threat had been directed at her. It wasn’t a case of the wrong car, someone had done that to her.

  She’d been in trouble, and she hadn’t called him.

  I’ve been taking care of myself for more than a decade…

  She couldn’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six years old; that would mean she’d had to be strong when she was thirteen or fourteen. Sadness weighed down on his shoulders. He knew something had to have happened in her past to make her so tough, but for it to have happened when she was so young tore at his insides.

  Those walls of cockiness and sexual confidence she’d built to hide behind were higher and stronger than he’d thought. The question was, were they too high?

  They’d rushed things. He’d rushed things.

  He’d let pure lust and Lara’s obvious sexual eagerness distract him from the fact that she was completely untrained. Sure, Lara was naturally submissive. He could feel it. But she wasn’t like any other submissive he’d met. She might think it was a game, but that was because to so many people, D/s was a game. Nothing more than a sexual kink to keep things interesting in the bedroom.

  It was so much more than that, though, and it was up to him to show her.

  Karl had always known there was a deeper need inside himself. He enjoyed the play and it kept the need from clawing up his insides, but that was only because he hadn’t found the one whocould feed his need. The one who could accept, and embrace, how deeply the need ran within him.

  When he thought of Lara, when he looked at her, the urge to dominate, to own, to care for…and to love was stronger than anything he’d felt. And he sensed her need ran just as deep, she just hadn’t accepted it yet.

  Lara wasn’t someone who would submit to a man just because he called himself a Dom. She’d only submit to someone who was strong enough to dominate her. He was that man. He wanted more than her body, and he was patient enough, and strong enough, to get it.

  Then he’d always be her first call when something happened, and she’d trust enough to let him take care of her.

  24

  Lara worked through lunch to make up for being late, and she broke a few speeding laws to get her deliveries done with time to spare. She wondered at her eagerness to do what Karl had told her. Her first reaction had been to go about her day and deliberately be too busy to go see him. But as the day passed, and she wondered about what sort of fun he had in mind to make them both feel better, she started hurrying.

  Normally, if a guy told her to get her body somewhere by a certain time, she’d tell him to get lost. Men were easy, and she really didn’t need to put up with one who wanted to control her.

  Yet, when Karl had given her that order, her breath had caught and desire had shot through her system. Desire that build up steam with every imagined scene of sitting on his desk and getting screwed hard and fast. And that was why she was eager.

  It was natural. Karl Dawson was a prime male, with not only a big cock, but also the knowledge and imagination to use it well. In her almost twenty-seven years, she’d never met a man, or a woman, who could play her body the way he did.

  Sure, it had been Jan’s mouth that had given her the majority of her orgasms last night, but it had been at Karl’s command. She couldn’t wait to see what his wicked imagination had come with for time spent in his office.

  Graham’s office day ended at five o’clock, so she figured Karl would be there at least until then. It being Wednesday, with not a lot of parts to be delivered, instead of pissing her boss off even more by going to see Karl when she had a some slow time in th
e afternoon, she busted her butt to get her orders done by four. And she did it.

  She dropped off the work truck and asked Maura to call her a cab.

  Maura just looked at her and blew a smoke ring. “Where you going?”

  She rattled off the address to Karl’s office. “My friend works there. He’ll give me a ride home.”

  “No need for a cab. John just made his last drop, I’ll get him to deliver you as his last run.” She winked and Lara chuckled.

  She heard Maura get on the radio and tell the college student and part-time driver to pick her up in the parking lot as she walked away. The April sun was shining, the streets sparkling from the light rain shower that had come out of nowhere an hour earlier then disappeared five minutes after it had started. Typical Vancouver weather.

  Why she was thinking about the weather she didn’t know. Probably because she didn’t want to think about her freakin’ tires getting slashed, and she wasn’t quit ready to examine her feelings for Karl.

  Her feelings for Karl.

  She’d known the man two weeks, he’d only fucked her once, and she had feelings for him. Something weird was happening, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it.

  The little white delivery truck pulled into the parking lot and Lara jumped in. Fifteen minutes later she strode into Karl’s building and noted that Graham was already gone. The door to Karl’s office was open, though, and she stopped just inside it, drinking in the view of him at work.

  Suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up to expose muscled forearms, and tie hanging loosely around his neck, he was pure masculine beauty. Not classically good looking, or even handsome, but pure sensual delight for the senses. She breathed deep and imagined she could smell his earthy scent from where she stood. Her fingers itched to stroke through the mussed blond hair and down his neck, to the tense muscles of his shoulders.

  “You look like you could use a massage,” she said as she strolled into the room.

 

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