He returns my smile showing even, white teeth and creating small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His eyes sear into me sending heat streaking across my skin and another wave of shivers to take over my body. Not a good time to feel that particular flare of heat in my core that decides at that moment to create an embarrassing untimely wetness between my legs. Really? Some guys have had to work for several long minutes to achieve that feat. Yet he only has to crinkle his eyes a little at the corners and my body’s nearly drowning?
Never thought I’d be more grateful to be hanging upside down in my life. Might even consider it a blessing after all.
“Hi-yo, Silver. Away!” He returns smoothly with a sloppy grin, his voice rich with amusement as he plays along with my little game.
“Who was that masked man?” I toss back nervously with what I can only hope comes across as a flirtatious kick to my lips.
“Here I come to save the day!” He even adds that little bit of vibrato to his singing at the end.
“That’s not the Lone Ranger.” I can’t imagine why I felt the need to point that out. “That’s Mighty Mouse.” I breathe out on a chuckle and let out a gasp at the pain as the seatbelt takes that moment to dig in.
“Silly me, getting my old TV shows confused,” he retorts drolly. His eyes, a rich brown, and crinkling at the corners like he smiles a lot and finds immense amusement in life. “How do you know so much about old shows?”
I lift my cuffed hands and tap my forehead with my index finger. Oh, dang. I forgot about the damn cuffs. Shit! A wave of dizziness encompasses me at the humiliation flooding my senses. I feel hot and cold at the same time.
Nate had been so mad when we’d left the restaurant. I hadn’t questioned what he was doing when he pulled the silver rings out of his glove box. I’d just held out my wrists like a good girl and sat quietly in the front seat. Now the snick of them closing echoed in my terrified mind.
I continue like there isn’t anything weird about my wrists being cuffed and he just ignores it for a moment. I know he’s just being nice, besides he’s a cop. He’s trained to notice those kinds of things and I know they don’t escape his notice because as soon as I lifted my hands his eyes narrowed and there was an obvious tick in his jaw.
I blow out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and say with what I’m sure is a desperate look upon my face. “Brain like a vault. Once it goes in, it never comes back out.” I chuckle again, then freeze because as soon as his eyes crinkle like that again in humor, I know exactly who he is. I drop my eyes as if that alone will prevent the rush of feelings that streak through me. It’s him. The him, him I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.
“Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me?” I mutter not too subtly under my breath and as if I need more blood rushing to my head, there it goes. Heat rolls into my face until it feels as if I’d stuck my head into a pre-heated oven and even with the snow falling all around us, sweat beads on my face making a little lake above my lips.
Nate had taken me with him. His club. His rules. I’d gone. Hadn’t fought him on it. I wanted to be what he wanted me to be so I’d put all of my inhibitions in a box and locked them away and hated every second of it. Not because I’d been truly embarrassed to be practically naked in public, but because I’d been embarrassed to be with him. He’d treated me like a piece of shit. Less than nothing.
I shudder at the thought.
That’s when I’d seen him. He’d taken my mind from all of the other things that I’d found amazing and perplexing going on around me like a bullseye at a shootin’ contest. He’d been standing next to a woman draped over a high bench with her legs and arms spread and bound. I remembered freezing in my tracks and the leash attached to the bust harness that Nate had wanted me to wear, I guess in order to prove to everyone around that I belonged to him, stretched tight and dug into my back and neck. As soon as my eyes had landed on him I’d been riveted. Unable to move. And no amount of tugging was gonna change that.
He’d been shirtless and wearing only some well-worn leathers that had fit his body obscenely and he was hands down the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes upon. Not because he’d been practically naked, but because he was confident. Confident in administering what his sub had needed unlike Nate and that’s what had had me riveted.
The woman he stood near wasn’t just any women. She was beautiful. No, that’s too tame of a word. She was abso-fuckin-lutely gorgeous. Long bottle-blonde hair and soft curves everywhere. I didn’t stand a chance.
The complete antithesis of me.
Exactly the kinda woman men enjoyed fucking.
Was that the kind of woman that normally turned him on? Tall, blonde, and all hips and breasts? Of course it was.
I don’t even know why I’d bothered asking myself that question. Men loved tits and ass.
Such is my life.
I have the body of a teenage boy except with tiny tits. Queen of the itty bitty titty committee as my brothers’ jokingly called me. Sucked.
He on the other hand is perfection. Tall, muscular, bulky yet lean at the same time. I was partial to a man with a little meat on him. I like a man who looked like he could take care of me. Like he could swallow me whole. Made me feel protected. Safe. He looked like he could do all of that and much, much more.
My nipples had hardened into painful peaks as I watched as his big tanned hands glided slowly over her fake tanned body. Not pale and freckly like mine.
He’d been tan too. All except for that white line at his hips that had became visible when he’d loosened his leathers to release his engorged cock. My breath had turned to gulping pants and my insides had turned all liquidy.
God, I’d felt like a freakin’ idiot.
It had pissed me off that she was the one spread face down and cuffed on the leather bench. I hadn’t know where that thought had come from. Until Nate, I hadn’t even thought about it and since, I’d wished I’d never heard about it. Seeing him had made me want it all the same.
I’d watched enthralled as he’d drawn a line down her back from the base of her skull to the beginning of the crack of her bottom and I watched as visible shivers skittered down her spine and I could almost feel the rough texture of the pad of his fingertip following the same path down my own body.
Then he’d done something to the blonde that engulfed my flesh in molten heat and sent it rushing straight to my core making me squirm right there on the spot and had me nearly on my knees.
He’d leaned in and spoke for her ears only. He raised his hand and laid it on her right cheek, rubbed and kneaded the soft flesh before his hand had come down on her bare ass three times in rapid succession.
Hard.
Making loud smacking noises that had elicited soft whimpers from me, not the blonde and resulted in a rough tug from Nate sending me scrambling to catch up.
The blonde had moaned because that’s all she could do with the ball-gag in her mouth and she’d squirmed as much as the restraints allowed.
Then I heard his voice as he said, “Still.” And it was exactly what I would’ve wanted it to be. Deep, commanding, powerful.
His hand then slipped between her legs pulling back out glistening with the telltale wetness. I knew she was more than willing for him to fuck her. Who wouldn’t? I was.
I’d recognized what he was.
He was a Dom.
He fucked submissive women in the club. Well, in my limited experience, that’s what I’d thought.
It had been almost too much to think about because I’d wanted him to fuck me. I was jealous. Jealous that he’d given that woman what I’d secretly wanted. I’d been appalled. How could I want a man I’d never even met? I couldn’t recall ever having fantasized about a stranger. That had been the first time. It had taken everything I’d had to keep my hands fisted at my sides. To not slide them down my body and shove them between my own legs to take the edge off. To not pluck at my own rigid nipples.
I’d been enthralled when he’d undone hi
s leathers, pulled out his massive cock, sheathed it with a condom, and rammed it into the blonde’s ready and willing pussy. That was when he’d turned his head to the right and I could have sworn he’d captured my gaze even from clean across the room.
“Dammit,” I remembered muttering under my breath.
I’d known deep down inside that it’d been wrong for me to watch him fucking some other woman while I’d been with Nate.
It was just something that I felt.
Usually when I felt that way it meant something.
Something important.
A film of sweat had dampened his skin as he thrust in and out of the blonde’s body, but it had seemed as if his concentration was solely on me.
His hand had gripped the blonde’s hip and I’d wished it was gripping mine. He’d lifted his hand and executed a swift slap against her left cheek and it was as if he’d slapped me and when her muscles tightened at the impact, so had mine.
Another swat, then another and the blonde cried out and I had to bite down hard on my tongue to stop the cries from flying out of mine. His mouth compressed into a tight line, the tendons of his neck tensed, and he actually winked at me as he came.
OhmyGod.
My knees had nearly buckled and a moan of such immense longing had escaped my lips. I’d even had to throw my hands over my mouth to stifle the sound, glancing around to make sure no one else had heard. Especially Nate.
I knew I shouldn’t have been watching him have sex with another woman even though he obviously didn’t carry the same feelings on the subject.
Especially hot, wild, crazy sex in a dungeon.
I mean it was scorching hot.
Melt your panties hot.
I do declare that at that time, I could have used one of my grandmother’s fans.
After that little fantasy scene, I’d quickly schooled my features, leveled out the cadence of my breathing as best I could, lowered my head, and meekly followed Nate through the club.
The cowboy’s piercing gaze doesn’t miss my reaction to his presence making me uncomfortable, yet he shows no signs that he recognizes me. There’s no way in hell that he can see into my soul, but it sure feels like he can so I drop my eyes and watch through my lashes as the forefinger and thumb on his right hand plays absently with the brown goatee at his chin, dark, wiry, and ruggedly sexy. It does nothing to detract from his beautiful mouth and draws my attention to his lips that look soft and firm as speaks gently.
He surprises me by smiling ruefully and asking, “How ya hanging in there, sweetheart?” His brow goes up even higher and his lips quirk on the right side and low and behold a dimple pops out. How freakin’ cool is that? A dimple. I missed that at the club. Of course he was a mile away at the club and I wasn’t really focused on his smile.
I smother a grin. “You tryin’ to be funny, Cowboy?”
“Cowboy?” He flashes a crooked smile.
I let my eyes speak for me. They travel slowly down his body and back up.
“Is it working?” His smile lingers, his dimple settling down a bit.
“Maybe.” I shrug, returning his smile. “You have a dimple, Cowboy.”
He breaks out into a full-fledged grin and it’s magnificent, as if the sun rose and spring had finally arrived after a long, cold winter.
I gape in wonder at him, wincing at the same time. “You have two dimples.” I whisper, a note of surprise in my voice, knowing I’m blabbering but I’m so happy to be rescued and I’m floored that it’s him doing the rescuing. I’m also flustered that he’s such a beautiful specimen of manhood and that it’s him doing the rescuing. A conundrum .
Surely I can chalk it all up to being delirious and thirsty, with a possible concussion, and happiness at being rescued.
His face changes. Softens. “That’s right, sweetheart, I have two,” he confirms by poking his fingers into each delightful hollow. The muscles in his shoulders ripple as he lifts them in a nonchalant gesture and his lips tighten into a straight line like he’s trying to keep from smiling some more. It’s actually rather charming how sweet he’s being.
“It’s a blessing and a curse.” He rolls his eyes with exaggerated annoyance, sitting back on his heels studying me.
I shake my head lethargically from side to side, adamant in my belief but too exhausted to be any more enthusiastic. “Blessing,” I murmur tiredly through numb lips my ordeal finally catching up with me.
He leans in looking amused. His breath warm against my face fixing me with a dark, intense gaze. “What was that, sweetheart?” His breath wafts gently over my skin with the hint of cinnamon and my pulse thuds in my ears.
“Blessing,” I repeat, but still almost too soft. My throat’s so dry I can barely swallow and all the liquid in my body seems to be absconding to another more inconvenient place. “Definitely a blessing. They’re delicious.” I start to lift my arm but don’t have the strength to complete the task. “I’d touch one if I wasn’t worn plumb out from this ordeal to lift my arm.”
His eyes dance, his mouth definitely twitching this time. He stretches into the car, grips my wrists making my body tense as he messes with the cuffs and then just like that, they’re gone. He stuffs them into his coat pocket acting like he removed cuffs off accident victims every day and it’s no big deal. He doesn’t say anything at that moment which only adds to my discomfiture. He just considers me some more, watching me much too closely, his thumb rubbing almost absently at the chaffing and bruising around my wrists. He lifts my hand and holds it against his cheek and my palm actually tingles at the contact.
“Have at it, sweetheart.” The golden glints in his eyes swirl with emotion and challenge as my hand rests against his cheek and I work hard to suppress another shiver.
I stare at him, my brows furrow and I know a strange look passes over my face. “What?”
“Touch ‘em.” He wiggles his dark brows. “I won’t bite. Hard.” Clearly amused, he smiles, a sensual lift of his lips and another quick flash of dimples.
I eye him warily. “You’re definitely trying to distract me now.”
“Definitely.” His voice grows husky, warm, rich. His face moves beneath my hand when his smile broadens and his dimples deepen to profound craters of deliciousness. I wiggle my finger in the dent he makes scrubbing my palm over the five o’clock shadow that decorates his jaw. And decorates is the right word. The dark hint only adds to his gorgeous bad-boy/law-man vibe and I can’t bring myself to stop staring.
I swallow and draw in a deep breath. “Thank you.” My voice comes out all breathy.
“My pleasure.”
His smile warms me from the inside out. He lifts that big hand. The same one that I’d watched rub and knead and spank and moves a thick strand of my auburn hair that escaped the clip at the back of my head and tucks it back out of the way allowing me to see clearly into his eyes without having to peek through the fallen strands.
Chocolate. No. Deep dark chocolate eyes that glint with golden flecks in the moonlight, the exact color of his voice. They bring to mind that really expensive hot chocolate from that store in New York with the real gold flakes in it. I’ve always wanted to try one of those. I bite down on the inside of my cheek, work at stilling my ridiculously inappropriate, runaway thoughts and concentrate on the task at hand.
Being rescued.
So far my mind has wandered from chocolate, to the Incredible Hulk, the Lone Ranger, back to chocolate again, and now to him. The most beautiful man I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes upon and I want to kiss him for real. Not just because he’s rescuing me, but because his mouth is the most beautiful mouth I’ve ever seen and I want to feel it beneath mine to see if it’s as warm as it looks when he smiles.
He sandwiches my hands between his two big ones and gently and slowly rubs them back and forth, generating heat because he knows they are frozen bits of icicles. His warm hands produce heat like the pot-bellied stove that radiated heat to my frozen fingers after building a snowman
as a child at my family’s cabin in the mountains. It’s the best feeling in the world and he does it without a second thought. It’s nice.
His gaze drifts over my face pausing when he reaches my split lip, traveling back to study my eyes. They linger. I know my left eye’s swollen almost shut so I’m fully aware that’s a done deal, but I don’t know if there are any other bruises from the airbag deployment that make the black eye any less conspicuous and look less like it was made by a fist.
He must think the same because he glances at the deflated airbag looking pissed when he turns back to me. Based on the look on his face, I have a feeling he knows the black eye isn’t from the airbag. Based on the way his eyes narrow when they focus on me, he knows that I know that he knows it isn’t from the airbag and that this isn’t the end of it. He without a doubt looks like the kind of guy that notices everything and gets to the bottom of everything. Not the kind of guy that sweeps things under the rug that are none of his business and pretends he has no clue what’s going on. My stomach cramps in a tight knot.
His fingers tighten just a fraction around my hand, but I definitely notice the difference right before he asks, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Chapter Three
Permit me to introduce you
“Kimberly,” I barely manage before having to take another swallow so I can finish. “Kimberly Sinclair.” My voice comes out low, tremulous even though with his touch I don’t feel quite as frightened or panicked any longer.
An eyebrow rises at the tremors in my voice. “No reason to be nervous, sugar.”
I like the way he calls me sugar and sweetheart. It’s nice, too, especially after being called bitch and cunt for so long. He fixes me with an intense gaze that makes my skin tingle and all the nerve endings in my body to spasm.
“Well, Kimberly, the cavalry has arrived.”
I nod, but my smile feels all wobbly. I glance away from his all-too-knowing eyes and take some deep breaths before looking back and when I do he’s studying me some more. I do like that he looks at me as though he might think I’m something special even if he’s just being a nice guy. It’s nice after being with a man who didn’t.
When You Only Need To Ask (The House of Sin: The Beginning) Page 3
